G.I. Joe Will Not be American

Paramount and Hasbro are combining to bring a live action G.I. Joe movie to the big screen. Unfortunatly, G.I. being American has been labeled to inflammatory so the team will be based in BELGIUM (of all places) and have an international flavor as they chase C.O.B.R.A.

Will the French send action figures to support the team? Will C.O.B.R.A. complain to the U.N. Human Rights Commission about racial profiling.

Will anyone watch this movie?

Uh.....no.

Well maybe some touchy-feely liberals who will look forward to the climatic ending as The G.I. Joe Team and C.O.B.R.A. will circle the camp fire, join hands and sing Kumbaya.

Good Guy Shoots Bad Guys

Teen Miss South Carolina Botches her Answer

Let me help.....

The Question:
Recent polls have shown a fifth of Americans can't locate the U.S. on a world map. Why do you think that is?

Her Answer?

I personally believe, that U.S. Americans are unable to do so because some people out there in out nation don't have maps and uh I believe that our education like in such as South Africa and the Iraq everywhere like such as and I believe that they should our education over here in the U.S. should help the U.S. or er help South Africa and should help the Iraq and Asian countries so we will be able to build up our future for our children.

My Turn:
WTF! "The Iraq"? Nice going on your "make or break" question.

Giving her the benefit of the doubt, the pressure was on and that's the point. To find an articulate young lady who can take the pressure of speaking in public.

I've got a swell head ache from listening to this over and over in order to type the transcript. I think the last word she says is "children" but it might be "troops". "Troops" throws her answer squarely into the Twilight Zone as if it didn't already have an express ticket.

Post a comment. I know you want to.

UFO Video on Fox News

This video was "shot" in Haiti and was reported on "Fox and Friends" last week. Later in the day "Fox News" reported that it was a fake coming out of France.

...or is it?

Cool Magic Trick

Patton Speaks Out about Iraq!

General George S. Patton speaks out about Iraq,Terrorism, Liberals, pacifist pussies and other things you REALLY need to hear.

Anti-American 4th of July

I'm really getting to be a fan of zombie.com. He attended the "Progaganda III" art show on July 4th in San Francisco. Surfing through the pictures, many seem to have a "Communism is Right for America" theme.




There was a good deal of the "Bush is Evil", Bush is Bad" drivel. Oh yeah, almost forgot. Don't forget to root of the terrorists.

This one was sent FROM Iran.


Check out his photo essay, here. It's got a great ending.

The Anti-Michael Savage Protest

Right off the get-go I need to tell you that I'm a big fan of Michael Savage. If you listen to his radio talk show, you'll discover he is NOT a right wing radical. He has been known to blast both sides of the aisle on issues. What I like most about him is that here a guy who shuns political correctness in favor of telling it like it is. No punches being pulled here.

On July 5, 2007, radio talk-show host Michael Savage, while discussing a group of San Francisco hunger strikers who were supporting an immigration bill, said, "I would say let them fast till they starve to death...because then we won't have a problem about giving them green cards, because they're illegal aliens."

This comment "caused" the Hispanic Community to take to the street in outrage. I personally think it was "La Raza" trying to pull an "Imus" on Mike.

Zombietime.com snapped a couple of pictures of the protest and I've added my two cents here.

If you're going to make a protest sign, you have to spell correctly.Like "Xenophobic"
and "Schwarzenegger".

Maybe there is something in that "Learn to Speak English" movement?

Here's another helpful hint if you're planning your own protest:

"If you are protesting racism, avoid racist remarks on your protest sign"






Help me out here. Is this a "La Raza" flag? MEChA maybe? Can racist organizations like MEChA and La Raza stage anti-racism protests?

Seriously, leave a comment if you know.

Supporters of Savage were also on hand.

Al Gore's New Book

Zombie at Zombietime.com took a picture of Al Gore. The flash blanked the book he was holding and that little mistake gave birth to a contest. Zombie asked readers to submit what they thought was the book he was holding. Here is my contribution.

While I'm on the subject. After seven years of denials, NASA has agreed that the formulas they used to determine global temperatures were wrong.

The formula causes a spike in temperatures in 2000. A sharp eyed amateur meteorologist and blogger spotted the blooper.




Here's Al's "book".

Old Ad

What can I say? Do not try this at home.
(click to enlarge)

Say What???

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Can Tossing

I hate these guys. I can't throw for shit.

Enjoy.

The Long Road Home

Want To Kill Your Wife? Watch What This Guy Does! Emmy Nominated - For more of the funniest videos, click here

A Secret Promise Kept

The appointment I was on my way to was very important; I was very late and very lost. With my male ego in check, I began to look for a place to ask directions, preferably a gas station. Since I had been crisscrossing the city, my gas gauge was perilously low and time was of the essence.

I spotted the amber glow of light outside the local fire station. What better place to ask directions?

I quickly stepped from my car and crossed the street to the station. All three overhead doors were open and I could see red fire engines with their doors ajar, chrome shining, waiting in anticipation for the bell to ring.

As I stepped inside, the aroma of the station assaulted me. It was the smell of the hoses drying in the tower, the oversized rubber boots, jackets and helmets. These smells, mixed in with the freshly washed floors and polished trucks, created that mysterious scent associated with all fire stations. Slowing down, I took a deep breath, closed my eyes and was transported back to my youth, to the fire station where my father worked for 35 years as head of fire maintenance.

I looked down to the end of the fire station and there it stood, sparkling gold to the sky, the fire pole. One day my dad let me and my older brother Jay slide down the pole, twice. In the corner of the station was the “creeper” used to slide under trucks when repairing them. Dad would say, “Hold on” and he would spin me around until I was dizzy as a drunken sailor. It was better than any Tilt-A-Whirl ride I have ever been on.

Next to the creeper was an old soda machine that had the classic Coca-Cola logo on it. It still dispensed the original green 10-ounce bottles, but they were now 35 cents compared with the 10 cents they were back then. A trip to the soda machine was always the highlight of the visit with Dad to the station, my very own bottle of soda.

When I was 10 years old, I took two of my friends by the station to show off my dad and see if we could weasel some sodas out of him. After showing them around the station, I asked Dad if we could each have a soda before we went home for lunch.

I detected just the slightest hesitation in my father’s voice that day, but he said “Sure” and gave us each a dime. We raced the soda machine to see if our bottle had a cap with the illustrious star on the inside.

What a lucky day! My cap had a star. I was only two caps away from sending for my very own Davy Crockett hat.

We all thanked my father and headed home for lunch and a summer afternoon of swimming.

I came home early that day from the lake, and as I walked down the hall I heard my parents talking. Mom seemed upset with Dad, and then I heard my name mentioned: “You should have just said you didn’t have the money for sodas. Brian would have understood. That money was for your lunch. The kids have to understand that we don’t have any extra money and you need to have your lunch.”

My dad, in his usual way, just shrugged it off.

Before my mother knew I had overheard the conversation, I hurried up the stairs to the room I shared with my four brothers.

As I emptied my pockets, the bottle cap that had caused so many problems fell to the floor. I picked it up and was ready to put it with the other seven when I realized how great a sacrifice my father had made for that bottle cap.

That night I made a promise of repayment. Someday I would be able to tell my father that I knew of the sacrifice he made that afternoon and so many other days, and I would never forget him for it.

My father had his first heart attack at the young age of 47. I guess his lifestyle of working three jobs to support the nine of us finally caught up to him. On the evening of my parents’ 25th anniversary, surrounded by all his family, the biggest, loudest, strongest of us all showed the first crack in the armor we as children thought would always be impenetrable.

Over the next eight years, my father battled back and forth, suffering another three heart attacks until he ended up with a pacemaker.

One afternoon my dad’s old blue Plymouth wagon broke down, and he called me for a ride to take him to the doctor for his annual checkup. As I pulled into the station, I saw my dad outside with all the other firemen crowded around a brand-new pickup truck. It was a deep blue Ford pickup, and it was a beauty. I mentioned to my dad how nice it was, and he commented that someday he would down a truck like that.

We both laughed. This was always his dream – and it always seemed so unattainable.

At this point in my personal life, I was doing quite well in business, as were all my brothers. We offered to buy him a truck, but as he so aptly put it, “If I don’t buy it, I won’t feel like it’s mine.”

As my dad stepped out of the doctor’s office I figured the gray pasty look on his face was from being poked, prodded and pricked with needles.

“Let’s go,” was all he said.

As we got into the car, I knew something was wrong. We drove off in silence and I knew Dad would tell me what was wrong in his own way.

I took the long way back to the station. As we drove by our old house, the ball field, lake and corner store, my dad started talking about the past and the memories each place held.

That’s when I knew he was dying.

He looked at me and nodded.

I understood.

We stopped at Cabot’s Ice Cream and had an ice cream together for the first time alone in 15 years. We talked, really talked that day. He told me how proud he was of all of us and that he wasn’t afraid of dying. His fear was that he was going to be away from my mother.

I chuckled at him; never had a man been more in love with a woman than my dad.

He made me promise that day that I would never tell anyone of his impending death. As I agreed to his wishes, I knew that it was one of the toughest secrets I would ever have to keep.

At the time, my wife and I were looking for a new car or truck. My father knew the salesman at Cochituate Motors in Wayland, so I asked him if he would go with me to see what I could get for a trade-in toward a new car or truck.

As we entered the showroom, and I started talking with the salesman, I spotted Dad looking at the most beautiful, fully loaded chocolate-brown metal flake pickup truck he or I had ever seen. I saw my dad run his hand over the truck like a sculptor checking his work.

“Dad, I think I should buy a truck. I want to look at something small that is good on gas mileage.”

As the salesman left the showroom to get the dealer plate, I suggested that we take the brown truck out for a ride.

“You can’t afford this,” he said.

“I know that, and you know that, but the salesman doesn’t,” I said.

As we pulled out onto Route 27, with my father behind the wheel, we both laughed like a couple of kids at the fast one we had pulled off. He drove for 10 minutes, commenting about how beautifully it rode while I played with all the bells and whistles.

When we returned to the showroom, we took out a small blue Sundowner truck. My dad commented that this was a better truck for commuting because of gas and all the miles I would be driving. I agreed with him and we returned and finalized the deal with the salesman.

I called my dad a few nights later and asked him if he would come with me to pick up the truck. I think he agreed so quickly just to get one final look at “his brown truck,” as he called it.

When we pulled into the dealer’s yard, there was my little blue Sundowner with a sold sticker on it. Next to it was the brown pickup, all washed and shiny, with a big SOLD sign on the window.

I glanced over at my father and saw the disappointment register on his face as he said, “Someone bought himself a beautiful truck.”

I just nodded and said, “Dad, would you go inside and tell the salesman I’ll be right in as soon as I park the car?” As my father walked past the brown truck, he ran his hand along it and I could see the look of disappointment pass over him again.

I pulled my car around to the far side of the building and looked out the window at the man who had given up everything for his family. I watched as the salesman sat him down, handed him a set of keys to his truck – the brown one – and explained that it was for him from me and this was our secret.

My dad looked out the window, our eyes met, and we both nodded and laughed at each other.

I was waiting outside my house when my dad pulled up that night. As he stepped out of his truck, I gave him a big hug and a kiss and told him how much I loved him, and reminded him this was our secret.

We went for a drive that evening. Dad said he understood the truck, but what was the significance of the Coca-Cola bottle cap with the star in the center taped to the steering wheel?

By Brian Keefe

Intra-Office Emails

Actual thread of office emails.

1. As you may have heard, there is a new Flightline Driving regulation. This regulation has not been implemented. I will send out a notice when it will be implemented and when I will begin testing on it. Also, once the regulation is published it will be available online. Thank you for your cooperation in this matter. If you have any questions regarding flightline driving, do not hesitate to call or e-mail me.

2. RE: I hesitated for a second before emailing you. Is that okay?

3. RE: RE: Lol what on earth do you mean?

4. RE: RE: RE: You said: "do not hesitate to call or e-mail me". Well, I did hesitate. I hope I didn’t get in trouble.

5. RE: RE: RE: RE: Yes, but you didn't have any questions nor did you voice any concerns.

6. RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: Yes I got in trouble or yes I didn't have any questions. This confuses me because I did have the question about whether or not I was in trouble.

7 RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: If you keep this up you will be.

Sheep, Wolves, and Sheepdogs

This is a great letter and a salute to all those in the armed forces who serve for the betterment of their countrymen.

Subject: Sheep, Wolves, and Sheepdogs (Long, but well worth the read)

Gen. Dula's letter to the University of Washington Student Senate Leader, Jill Edwards.

Jill Edwards is one of the students at the University of Washington who did not want to honor Medal of Honor winner USMC Colonel Greg Boyington because she does not think those who serve in the U.S. Armed services are good role models. I think that this response is an excellent and thought provoking response.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

General Dula is a Retired Air Force Lt. Gen.

To: Edwards, Jill (student, UW)
Subject: Sheep, Wolves and Sheepdogs

Miss Edwards, I read of your 'student activity' regarding the proposed memorial to Col Greg Boyington, USMC and a Medal of Honor winner. I suspect you will receive a bellyful of angry e-mails from conservative folks like me. You may be too young to appreciate fully the sacrifices of generations of servicemen and servicewomen on whose shoulders you and your fellow students stand. I forgive you for the untutored ways of youth and your naïveté. It may be that you are, simply, a sheep. There's no dishonor in being a sheep - - as long as you know and accept what you are.

###lease take a couple of minutes to read the following. And be grateful for the thousands - - millions - - of American sheepdogs who permit you the freedom to express even bad ideas.

Brett Dula

Sheepdog, retired

----------------------------------------------------------

On sheep, wolves and sheepdogs

By LTC(RET) Dave Grossman, RANGER, Ph.D., author of "On Killing."

Honor never grows old, and honor rejoices the heart of age. It does so because honor is, finally, about defending those noble and worthy things that deserve defending, even if it comes at a high cost. In our time, that may mean social disapproval, public scorn, hardship, persecution, or as always, even death itself. The question remains: What is worth defending? What is worth dying for? What is worth living for?

- William J. Bennett - in a lecture to the United States Naval Academy November 24, 1997 One Vietnam veteran, an old retired colonel, once said this to me: "Most of the people in our society are sheep. They are kind, gentle, productive creatures who can only hurt one another by accident."

This is true. Remember, the murder rate is six per 100,000 per year, and the aggravated assault rate is four per 1,000 per year. What this means is that the vast majority of Americans are not inclined to hurt one another. Some estimates say that two million Americans are victims of violent crimes every year, a tragic, staggering number, perhaps an all-time record rate of violent crime. But there are almost 300 million Americans, which means that the odds of being a victim of violent crime is considerably less than one in a hundred on any given year. Furthermore, since many violent crimes are committed by repeat offenders, the actual number of violent citizens is considerably less than two million.

Thus there is a paradox, and we must grasp both ends of the situation: We may well be in the most violent times in history, but violence is still remarkably rare. This is because most citizens are kind, decent people who are not capable of hurting each other, except by accident or under extreme provocation. They are sheep. I mean nothing negative by calling them sheep. To me, it is like the pretty, blue robin's egg. Inside it is soft and gooey but someday it will grow into something wonderful. But the egg cannot survive without its hard blue shell. Police officers, soldiers, and other warriors are like that shell, and someday the civilization they protect will grow into something wonderful. For now, though, they need warriors to protect them from the predators.

"Then there are the wolves," the old war veteran said, "and the wolves feed on the sheep without mercy." Do you believe there are wolves out there who will feed on the flock without mercy? You better believe it. There are evil men in this world and they are capable of evil deeds. The moment you forget that or pretend it is not so, you become a sheep. There is no safety in denial. "Then there are sheepdogs," he went on, "and I'm a sheepdog. I live to protect the flock and confront the wolf." If you have no capacity for violence then you are a healthy productive citizen, a sheep. If you have a capacity for violence and no empathy for your fellow citizens, then you have defined an aggressive sociopath, a wolf. But what if you have a capacity for violence, and a deep love for your fellow citizens? What do you have then? A sheepdog, a warrior, someone who is walking the hero's path. Someone who can walk into the heart of darkness, into the universal human phobia, and walk out unscathed.

Let me expand on this old soldier's excellent model of the sheep, wolves, and sheepdogs. We know that the sheep live in denial, that is what makes them sheep. They do not want to believe that there is evil in the world. They can accept the fact that fires can happen, which is why they want fire extinguishers, fire sprinklers, fire alarms and fire exits throughout their kids' schools. But many of them are outraged at the idea of putting an armed police officer in their kid's school. Our children are thousands of times more likely to be killed or seriously injured by school violence than fire, but the sheep's only response to the possibility of violence is denial. The idea of someone coming to kill or harm their child is just too hard, and so they chose the path of denial.

The sheep generally do not like the sheepdog. He looks a lot like the wolf. He has fangs and the capacity for violence. The difference, though, is that the sheepdog must not, can not and will not ever harm the sheep. Any sheep dog who intentionally harms the lowliest little lamb will be punished and removed. The world cannot work any other way, at least not in a representative democracy or a republic such as ours. Still, the sheepdog disturbs the sheep. He is a constant reminder that there are wolves in the land. They would prefer that he didn't tell them where to go, or give them traffic tickets, or stand at the ready in our airports, in camouflage fatigues, holding an M-16. The sheep would much rather have the sheepdog cash in his fangs, spray paint himself white, and go, "Baa." Until the wolf shows up. Then the entire flock tries desperately to hide behind one lonely sheepdog.

The students, the victims, at Columbine High School were big, tough high school students, and under ordinary circumstances they would not have had the time of day for a police officer. They were not bad kids; they just had nothing to say to a cop. When the school was under attack, however, and SWAT teams were clearing the rooms and hallways, the officers had to physically peel those clinging, sobbing kids off of them. This is how the little lambs feel about their sheepdog when the wolf is at the door.

Look at what happened after September 11, 2001 when the wolf pounded hard on the door. Remember how America, more than ever before, felt differently about their law enforcement officers and military personnel? Remember how many times you heard the word hero? Understand that there is nothing morally superior about being a sheepdog; it is just what you choose to be.

Also understand that a sheepdog is a funny critter: He is always sniffing around out on the perimeter, checking the breeze, barking at things that go bump in the night, and yearning for a righteous battle. That is, the young sheepdogs yearn for a righteous battle. The old sheepdogs are a little older and wiser, but they move to the sound of the guns when needed, right along with the young ones. Here is how the sheep and the sheepdog think differently. The sheep pretend the wolf will never come, but the sheepdog lives for that day. After the attacks on September 11, 2001, most of the sheep, that is, most citizens in America said, "Thank God I wasn't on one of those planes." The sheepdogs, the warriors, said, "Dear God, I wish I could have been on one of those planes. Maybe I could have made a difference." When you are truly transformed into a warrior and have truly invested yourself into "warriorhood", you want to be there. You want to be able to make a difference. There is nothing morally superior about the sheepdog, the warrior, but he does have one real advantage. Only one. And that is that he is able to survive and thrive in an environment that destroys 98 percent of the population.

There was research conducted a few years ago with individuals convicted of violent crimes. These cons were in prison for serious, predatory crimes of violence: assaults, murders and killing law enforcement officers. The vast majority said that they specifically targeted victims by body language: Slumped walk, passive behavior and lack of awareness. They chose their victims like big cats do in Africa, when they select one out of the herd that is least able to protect itself. Some people may be destined to be sheep and others might be genetically primed to be wolves or sheepdogs. But I believe that most people can choose which one they want to be, and I'm proud to say that more and more Americans are choosing to become sheepdogs.

Seven months after the attack on September 11, 2001, Todd Beamer was honored in his hometown of Cranbury, New Jersey. Todd, as you recall, was the man on Flight 93 over Pennsylvania who called on his cell phone to alert an operator from United Airlines about the hijacking. When he learned of the other three passenger planes that had been used as weapons, Todd dropped his phone and uttered the words, "Let's roll," which authorities believe was a signal to the other passengers to confront the terrorist hijackers. In one hour, a transformation occurred among the passengers - athletes, business people and parents. -- from sheep to sheepdogs and together they fought the wolves, ultimately saving an unknown number of lives on the ground.

There is no safety for honest men except by believing all possible evil of evil men. - Edmund Burke- Here is the point I like to emphasize, especially to the thousands of police officers and soldiers I speak to each year. In nature the sheep, real sheep, are born as sheep. Sheepdogs are born that way, and so are wolves. They didn't have a choice. But you are not a critter. As a human being, you can be whatever you want to be. It is a conscious, moral decision. If you want to be a sheep, then you can be a sheep and that is okay, but you must understand the price you pay. When the wolf comes, you and your loved ones are going to die if there is not a sheepdog there to protect you. If you want to be a wolf, you can be one, but the sheepdogs are going to hunt you down and you will never have rest, safety, trust or love. But if you want to be a sheepdog and walk the warrior's path, then you must make a conscious and moral decision every day to dedicate, equip and prepare yourself to thrive in that toxic, corrosive moment when the wolf comes knocking at the door.

For example, many police officers carry their weapons in church. They are well concealed in ankle holsters, shoulder holsters or inside-the-belt holsters tucked into the small of their backs. Anytime you go to some form of religious service, there is a very good chance that a police officer in your congregation is carrying a weapon. You will never know if there is such an individual in your place of worship, until the wolf appears to massacre you and your loved ones.

I was training a group of police officers in Texas, and during the break, one officer asked his friend if he carried his weapon in church. The other cop replied, "I will never be caught without my gun in church." I asked why he felt so strongly about this, and he told me about a cop he knew who was at a church massacre in Ft. Worth, Texas in 1999. In that incident, a mentally deranged individual came into the church and opened fire, gunning down fourteen people. He said that officer believed he could have saved every life that day if he had been carrying his gun. His own son was shot, and all he could do was throw himself on the boy's body and wait to die. That cop looked me in the eye and said, "Do you have any idea how hard it would be to live with yourself after that?" Some individuals would be horrified if they knew this police officer was carrying a weapon in church. They might call him paranoid and would probably scorn him. Yet these same individuals would be enraged and would call for "heads to roll" if they found out that the airbags in their cars were defective, or that the fire extinguisher and fire sprinklers in their kids' school did not work. They can accept the fact that fires and traffic accidents can happen and that there must be safeguards against them. Their only response to the wolf, though, is denial, and all too often their response to the sheepdog is scorn and disdain. But the sheepdog quietly asks himself, "Do you have any idea how hard it would be to live with yourself if your loved ones were attacked and killed, and you had to stand there helplessly because you were unprepared for that day?"

It is denial that turns people into sheep. Sheep are psychologically destroyed by combat because their only defense is denial, which is counterproductive and destructive, resulting in fear, helplessness and horror when the wolf shows up. Denial kills you twice. It kills you once, at your moment of truth when you are not physically prepared: you didn't bring your gun, you didn't train. Your only defense was wishful thinking. Hope is not a strategy. Denial kills you a second time because even if you do physically survive, you are psychologically shattered by your fear, helplessness and horror at your moment of truth.

Gavin de Becker puts it like this in "Fear Less", his superb post-9/11 book, which should be required reading for anyone trying to come to terms with our current world situation: "...denial can be seductive, but it has an insidious side effect. For all the peace of mind deniers think they get by saying it isn't so, the fall they take when faced with new violence is all the more unsettling." Denial is a save-now-pay-later scheme, a contract written entirely in small print, for in the long run, the denying person knows the truth on some level. And so the warrior must strive to confront denial in all aspects of his life, and prepare himself for the day when evil comes. If you are warrior who is legally authorized to carry a weapon and you step outside without that weapon, then you become a sheep, pretending that the bad man will not come today. No one can be "on" 24/7, for a lifetime. Everyone needs down time. But if you are authorized to carry a weapon, and you walk outside without it, just take a deep breath, and say this to yourself..."Baa."

This business of being a sheep or a sheep dog is not a yes-no dichotomy. It is not an all-or-nothing, either-or choice. It is a matter of degrees, a continuum. On one end is an abject, head-in-the-sand-sheep and on the other end is the ultimate warrior. Few people exist completely on one end or the other. Most of us live somewhere in between. Since 9-11 almost everyone in America took a step up that continuum, away from denial. The sheep took a few steps toward accepting and appreciating their warriors, and the warriors started taking their job more seriously. The degree to which you move up that continuum, away from "sheephood" and denial, is the degree to which you and your loved ones will survive, physically and psychologically at your moment of truth.

"If It Weren't For The United States Military" "There Would Be NO United States of America"

Classification: UNCLASSIFIED

Caveats: NONE

Pull a Rabbit Out of a Hat

You won't see this on "Rocky and Bullwinkle".


Woman Gives Birth To Live Rabbit - The most popular videos are here

Marines

"Freedom is not free, but the U.S. Marine Corps will pay most of your share."
Ned Dolan

"We signed up knowing the risk. Those innocent people in New York didn't go to work thinking there was any kind of risk."
Pvt. Mike Armendariz-Clark, USMC

"I have just returned from visiting the Marines at the front, and there is not a finer fighting organization in the world!"
General of the Armies Douglas MacArthur, September 21, 1950 Korea

"The Marines I have seen around the world have the cleanest bodies, the filthiest minds, the highest morale, and the lowest morals of any group of animals I have ever seen. Thank God for the United States Marine Corps!"
First Lady of the United States Eleanor Roosevelt, 1945

"Some people spend an entire lifetime wondering if they made a difference in the world. But, the Marines don't have that problem."
President Ronald Reagan, 1985

"We are United States Marines, and for two and a quarter centuries we have defined the standards of courage, esprit, and military prowess."
Gen. James L. Jones, USMC, November 10, 2000

"The deadliest weapon in the world is a Marine and his rifle."
Gen. John Pershing, US Army Commander of American FOrces in WWI.

"Marines I see as two breeds, Rottweilers or Dobermans, because Marines come in two varieties, big and mean, or skinny and mean. They're aggressive on the attack and tenacious on defense. They've got really short hair and they always go for the throat."
RAdm. Jay R. Stark, USN, November 10, 1995

"For over 221 years our Corps has done two things for this great Nation. We make Marines, and we win battles."
Gen. Charles C. Krulak, USMC, May 5, 1997

"I love the Corps for those intangible possessions that cannot be issued: pride, honor, integrity, and being able to carry on the traditions for generations of warriors past."
Cpl. Jeff Sornij, USMC, in Navy Times, November 1994

WORDS WOMEN USE

1. Fine: This is the word women use to end an argument when they are right and you need to shut up.

2. Five Minutes: If she is getting dressed, this means a half an hour. Five minutes is only five minutes if you have just been given five more minutes to watch the game before helping around the house.

3. Nothing: This is the calm before the storm. This means something, and you should be on your toes. Arguments that begin with nothing usually end in fine.

4. Go Ahead: This is a dare, not permission. Don't Do It!

5. Loud Sigh: This is not actually a word, but is a non-verbal statement often misunderstood by men A loud sigh means she thinks you are an idiot and wonders why she is wasting her time standing here and arguing with you about nothing. (Refer back to #3 for the meaning of nothing.)

6. That's Okay: This is one of the most dangerous statements a women can make to a man. That's okay means she wants to think long and hard before deciding how and when you will pay for your mistake.

7. Thanks: A woman is thanking you, do not question, or Faint. Just say you're welcome.

8. Whatever: Is a woman's way of saying FUCK YOU!

9. Don't worry about it, I got it: Another dangerous statement, meaning this is something that a woman has told a man to do several times, but is now doing it herself. This will later result in a man asking "What's wrong?" For the woman's response, refer to #3.

Kids and the Sea

1) This is a picture of an octopus. It has eight testicles.
(Kelly age 6)

2) Oysters' balls are called pearls.
(James age 6)

3) If you are surrounded by sea you are an Island. If you don't have sea all round you, you are incontinent.
( Wayne age 7)

4) Sharks are ugly and mean, and have big teeth, just like Emily Richardson. She's not my friend no more.
(Kylie age 6)

5) A dolphin breaths through an asshole on the top of its head.
(Billy age 8)

6) My uncle goes out in his boat with pots, and comes back with crabs.
(Millie age 6)

7) When ships had sails, they used to use the trade winds to cross the ocean. Sometimes, when the wind didn't blow, the sailors would whistle to make the wind come. My brother said they would have been better off eating beans.
(William age 7)

8) I like mermaids. They are beautiful, and I like their shiny tails. And how on earth do mermaids get pregnant? Like, really?
(Helen age 6)

9) I'm not going to write about the sea. My baby brother is always screaming and being sick, my Dad keeps shouting at my Mom, and my big sister has just got pregnant, so I can't think what to write.
(Amy age 6)

10) Some fish are dangerous. Jellyfish can sting. Electric eels can give you a shock. They have to live in caves under the sea where I think they have to plug themselves into chargers.
(Christopher age 7)

11) When you go swimming in the sea, it is very cold, and it makes my willy small.
(Kevin age 6)

12) Divers have to be safe when they go under the water. Two divers can't go down alone, so they have to go down on each other.
(Becky age 8)

13) On holidays my Mom went water skiing. She fell off when she was going very fast. She says she won't do it again because water fired right up her fat ass.
(Jule age 7)