NASA

Robert "Scooter" Bowerd, head technician for NASA's foam installation crew, once again expressed dismay over the latest incident of foam insulation flying off the rocket boosters and hitting the protective heat shields. "We used the latest and greatest materials, and applied the foam specifically according to the manufacturers specifications". "I'm at a loss to explain how it failed again".

I am...

I am the basketball hoop without a net in downtown Detroit.

I am the guy in the Old Spice commercial pushing his kid on the swing.

I am the firefighter carrying 80 lbs of equipment on my back while climbing to the 77th floor, all the while knowing I probably will not take the stairs back down.

I am the guy throwing the football to the kids in the neighborhood on the 4th of July.

I am the woman going back to work 45 days after giving birth.

I am 13 stripes and 50 stars.

I am fried chicken and baked beans.

I am Utah and Omaha beaches.

I am the first Thanksgiving dinner.

I am the Old North Church and 1 lantern.

I am - regrettably - Kent State, Watergate, and Abu Graib.

I am the notion of freedom and democracy, and I make that notion work.

I am the Mojave Desert and the Savannah’s of the southeastern shores.

I am “Give me liberty, or give me death”.

I am baseball in October, Football in January, and basketball in March.

I am 3 ships with Spanish names.

I am “a chicken in every pot”.

I am Will Rogers, Kenny Rogers, and Buck Rogers.

I am black, white, brown, yellow, and red.

I am English, but I can learn.

I am Lewis and Clark.

I am Arthur Fiedler.

I am Thomas Jefferson and Benjamin Franklin.

I am Shaker Village, Hancock Village, and Tahoe Village.

I am “new” - New York, New Jersey, and New Mexico.

I am the Brooklyn Bridge, the Tallmadge Bridge, and the Golden Gate Bridge.

I am the falls of Niagara.

I am a cheesesteak in Philly, and an Italian Ices in “The City”, and a sub in Boston.

I am Omaha, Des Moines, Wichita, and St. Paul.

I am John Wayne and Marilyn Monroe.

I am “Yesterday, December 7th, 1941…a date which will live in infamy.”

I am Babe Ruth, Henry Aaron - and grudgingly - Barry Bonds.

I am “All in the family”, “Moonlighting”, and “Bonanza”.

I am Texas, strong and large…and also Delaware, meek and quiet.

I am the PT 109.

I am Mt. Rushmore and the Crazy Horse monument.

I am the steam engine, the cotton gin, and the motor car.

I am Henry Ford, Bill Gates, and Berkshire Hathaway.

I am freedom of the press, freedom of speech, freedom of movement, and sometimes I am guilty of the abuse of each.

I am Walter Cronkite, Chet Huntley, and David Brinkley.

I am rock and roll, and I am hip-hop.

I am Samuel Clemens, but you may call me Mark.

I am a Vermont dairy farm, and a West Palm Beach condo.

I am Big Bird, Bugs Bunny, and a Mouse named “Mickey”.

I am Princeton, Stanford, and a small community college in your hometown.

I am Robin Williams and George Burns.

I am the first transcontinental flight as well as the first transcontinental ballistic missile.

I am shining from sea to sea.

I am war and I am peace.

I am Martin Luther King Jr., Ralph Abernathy, and Malcolm X.

I am the gold rush of ’48 and ’49.

I am October 1929, and I survived.

I am the Red Sox versus the Yankees, the Steelers versus the Cowboys, and Billy Jean versus Bobby Riggs.

Inexplicably, I am “American Idol”, “Survivor”, and “Fear Factor”.

I am Alaska, vast, mysterious, and gorgeous.

I am an otherwise perfect September Tuesday in 2001.

I am “Bring me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses”.

I am Davey Crockett, Sam Bowie and “The Alamo”.

I am Hollywood, Dollywood, and wish-I-could.

I am the Army, Navy, Marine Corps, and the Air Force.

I am the Easter Seals, The Jerry Lewis Telethon, and Make-a-wish.

I am “old” – Old Dominion University, This Old House, Old-time Rock and Roll, the Old Farmers Almanac, and Old Glory.

I am Stephen King, Carl Sandberg, and Louisa May Alcott.

I am criticized and admired, but I stand here with open arms in either case.

I am wrong and I am right.

I am California, therefore I am sometimes superficial and weird.

I am the Pops, and several wonderful philharmonics.

I am Ford Theater, the Ambassador Hotel in LA, a balcony in Memphis, and the grassy knoll.

Finally, I am the younger brother tearfully eulogizing...

"My brother need not be idealized or enlarged in death beyond what he was in life, to be remembered simply as a good decent man who saw wrong and tried to right it, saw suffering and tried to heal it, saw war and tried to stop it”.

"Those of us who loved him and who take him to his rest today, pray that what he was to us and what he wished for others will someday come to pass for all the world”.

"As he said many times in many parts of this nation, to those he touched and who sought to touch him: 'Some men see things as they are and ask why? I dream things that never were and ask why not"?

This is who I am, and whether up or down, I'm still better than you are. If that were not true, you wouldn't keep coming.

No title (Part I)

He's young, between the ages of 17 and 22. A-political by nature, he hasn't reached the age where politics mean anything to him. He's a high school graduate, and may have spent a couple of semesters in college. He worked as a grocery clerk in high school, played varsity football and basketball, but found himself on the fringe of the "football hero" mentality employed by many teenage kids. He always found it kind of strange that students would idolize the speedy halfback, especially when many of them knew that same football player was rude and arrogant most of the time, due in no small measure to the age and status bequeathed upon these star athletes. Subsequently, our guy found himself friends with both sides of the student body. In no way was he a loner, but he wasn't a follower either. His grades were not as reflective of his intelligence as he would like, but they weren't bad. His stint in college was marked by periods of indecision and boredom. He needed something in his life that his current surroundings couldn't provide.

So he took a chance.

The Drill Sergeants - much ballyhooed and reviled - were to his liking. He thought the games they played were perfect for what they were trying to accomplish, which was to shape young men and into citizen soldiers; people willing to work, fight, and survive under the toughest of circumstances in the never-ending quest to preserve and protect the country and its residents. He didn't differentiate between fighting on another soil and fighting on his own soil - that was an argument better left to those who've never fought at all. In his heart he knew where he was headed and what his charge would be, and for the first time in his life, he knew he stood apart from others. He heard them on the T.V., saw them condemning everything on the talk shows. He often thought privately about the fact that those who criticize rarely stand up and fight themselves, and history had proven this time and again to be true. They preach about Constitutional Rights - and their claim to them - while others like our young man are the ones who actually do the dirty work to maintain them. It has always been this way, and there is nothing on the horizon indicating that will ever change.

Knowingly, our young man trudges on, finding himself in the most God forsaken hell-hole of a country he or anyone of his comrades have ever seen. Perhaps it is in the Middle East, perhaps the Near East. In any case, the task is clear. Pay attention, learn as much as you can - as fast as you can - and stick close to the man next to you. Goddamit it's cold, he thinks as he hunkers down in a makeshift bunker high in the mountains. What the hell is the name of these mountains anyways? A needle in a haystack doesn't come close to describing what he and his unit are trying to do. On the thousandth mission of the thousandth day, they once again patrol the hills looking for the tall man with the cane and the entourage close at hand. Our guy has been told the unit has come close in the past - agonizingly close at that - but as hard as they've brought the hammer down, they still haven't been able to ring the bell. Maybe today, he thinks. Maybe it'll be me that takes him down and causes everyone else to go home.

He knows even if he is the one to take him down, no one is going home quite yet. He knows the enemy is here for the long haul, bent upon nearly 2000 years of pent-up frustration and anger, fueled by hatred for all things not of their own, whether that be land, religion, power, or money. The combatants are eager to fight, willing to die, and without a time-table. The side our young man stands on is a cornucopia of differing opinions, most of them against the fighting, but lacking the substance of a practical alternative. His people do not want to die, do not welcome the fight, and in many cases, don't even see the justification of such a battle. Memories are short, he thinks as he hunkers down, attempting to get a little shut-eye. When was the last time I slept comfortably? With a chuckle at that thought, he drifts off.

No title (Part II)

Deep in sleep, he heard the crack and pop of the fireworks, his Dad laughing at the way his young son shied away from the noise and suddenness of the display – especially the M-80’s. Loud and packing a certain amount of concussion, the M-80’s were a favorite on the 4th of July in the neighborhood, and Dad always made sure he had a half dozen or so to shoot off at the family bar-b-que the family had every year after returning from the parade. The parades that as the years wore on became smaller and less ornate – the price for traveling marching bands escalating and silly political correctness ordinances like no sirens from police and fire vehicles causing the parades to have less volume and subsequently less punch than they had when he was younger. But at least they still had the M-80’s, although this time he was confused because there was shouting going on in the background, and all the years Dad had been doing this the only shouting he had ever heard was squealing and joyous laughter. Why was there shouting going on?

The gun battle between his platoon and the band of enemy soldiers had been going on for the better part of 40 seconds before he pulled himself out of his deep, dream-filled sleep, to the screams of his bunker-mate telling him to hand him another bandoleer of ammo, and to “get his ass moving”. Without so much as another thought, his training and discipline kicked into place and he handed his fellow soldier the needed ammo, and took his place upon the top of the sandbags firing towards the sounds of the incoming rounds. Nowhere in his mind was he covering the in’s and out’s of his particular circumstance, he was just reacting and doing. It became eerily quiet on that mountainside, and the young man thought it strange that he could look up and see his friend still firing and yelling, but he couldn’t hear anything. His world was going in slow motion now, and he felt calm and reassured in his surroundings. The fingers on his right hand, holding fast to the side of his neck, were warmed now with the flow of thick hot blood.

He thought about the touchdown run – 70 yards with most of his friends out in front blocking and imploring him to run as fast as he could. He thought about how happy his mom looked on graduation day, he in his purple cap and gown and the crooked tie that he never could get right. He thought about what time it must be back home. His dog ran in front of him, and he leaned down and gave it a big backrub. He saw everyone reacting to the fireworks, and he watched in amazement as his favorite marching band went by silently, the faces in the crowd silently forming oooohs and ahhhhs with their mouths.

The T.V. was on back home at his girlfriends house, and the talking head, hand adorned with a Rolex and a diamond pinky ring, was saying something about how he could no longer find himself supporting the troops. He spoke of how he no longer favored or even liked the idea of having troops, and how he had no problem expressing his opinions publicly...

The girlfriend pulled the covers up, using the remote to turn the T.V. off...

Click.

Jumping the shark

It's baaaaaack.

For the 3rd time since 1989, the Senate has once again failed to approve an amendment to the Constitution to ban the practice of burning the United States flag. This time, it failed by one single vote. Opponents of the bill said burning the flag was a critical proponent of free speech, and any stifling of such would go against the principles upon which this nation was formed. Former presidential candidate John Kerry went so far as to say, "Our country is founded on the right to be stupid", a fact that is pretty much ratified on a daily basis within the Washington beltway, as well as in the line at any ATM machine in our great land.

I implore you, from here on in exercise your rights as free and equal citizens, and walk with John Kerry, Senator Hillary Clinton, and all the other's who voted against the amendment. Follow their lead, and hold your head high while you do it.

If you want to call an obese man a "fat bastard", you are hereby protected by your First Amendment right to say so. If you find someone in front of you at the DMV a fine candidate for the new reality show, "How stupid is this woman?", by all means, let her know it. If they get upset at you and call you a callous, insensitive, asshole...stand loud and stand proud. You're protected by the First Amendment, and you should strive to let them know that many of our greatest Senators have told you so officially.

I also think we should set up burn stations around the country in a show of solidarity to our fellow countrymen. Let's start with one at a place like...oh, I don't know...how about Ft. Bragg, North Carolina? Bring your flags to the home of the 82nd Airborne Division and show them how you - the intelligent nationalistic citizen - know how to exercise your rights and privileges, and burn that baby right in front of an infantry platoon. Show America you have the courage of your convictions, and do so on national t.v. If any of those stupid soldiers who don't have half the courage and intellect that you possess object to your actions, remind them that "it's just a piece of cloth, and as a caring, compassionate American, I have the right to do this."

Let's stand up for the rights of all the ugly people to be called homely, it's the American way. Tell people everywhere that John Kerry said they have the right to be stupid, and stand up for that right. He certainly does.

And don't forget to buy some donuts for the fat bastard in the cubicle next to you. He'll appreciate your patriotism.

The end

Yeah you did. Yes, you did. Stop it, right now. You did...we know you did...and thankfully, now we don't have to deal with you any more.

Yes...you did.

Funeral Protests

Demonstrators will be barred from disrupting military funerals at national cemeteries under legislation approved by Congress and sent to the White House Wednesday The measure, passed by voice vote in the House hours after the Senate passed an amended version, specifically targets a Kansas church group that has staged protests at military funerals around the country, claiming that the deaths were a sign of God's anger at U.S. tolerance of homosexuals. The act "will protect the sanctity of all 122 of our national cemeteries as shrines to their gallant dead," Senate Majority Leader Bill Frist, R-Tenn., said prior to the Senate vote. "It's a sad but necessary measure to protect what should be recognized by all reasonable people as a solemn, private and deeply sacred occasion," he said.

Unfortunately excluded from the bill was the provision that law abiding, compassionate citizens would have free reign to kick the ever-loving shit out of anyone who dared protest at any funeral, let alone a military one.

Ok...I made that last part up, but it sure sounded good...didn't it?

Memorial Day 2006

Since it's Memorial Day, make sure you do what 98% of American's do...grill hamburgers and go to the beach cuz it's a Monday off!!!

I wonder what this guy trudging his way across some long-forgotten hell in Italy would think of that?

Awesome

Once again, God has proven that terrorists can't do as well as he can when he puts his mind to it.

Can you stop it? No

Can you contain it? No

Then I guess HE does have the upper hand on these kinds of things.

Old

You know you're getting old when...

• You mention Babe Ruth and your kid asks you, "They still make that candy bar?"
• You listen to talk radio more than regular radio
• You think you should be hosting the talk radio show
• You sprain your ankle reaching for the toilet paper
• You put your glasses on so you can see
• You take your glasses off so you can eat or read
• You have no idea where the hell your glasses are
• You discover you're wearing them
• Sexy underwear is anything with color
• You stopped watching the 10 pm news because it was waaaaaay past your bedtime
• You wonder why McDonald's hasn't caught on to the "senior menu" idea yet
• At breakfast, something snaps, crackles, and pops, but you're eating French toast
• I dawns on you that eating Hot Pockets has the same symptoms as the bird flu
• You stop doing everything that is bad, but you still feel like crap
• You can't seem to recall when your memory started failing
• You say things like, "Nowadays"...a lot
• You try to justify your position by saying, "50 years old is different than it once was"
• You ask your kid to turn down the music while you turn up the volume on the T.V.
• You stopped watching the 7 am weather because it was waaaaay before you awoke
• Flea markets are cool
• You say, "I remember when", but the story cuts off because you really can't
• A HUGE party is held at your house, and no one in the neighborhood notices
• You get called 'mister' more times than you would prefer

You're getting even older when...

• Your kids are close to moving away, and suddenly it's not as good an idea as you once thought it was

Manny Rummy? Rummy Manny?

Is it just me, or has anyone else noticed that this man....



And this man....

Are never in the same place at the same time? Coincidence? I think not!

Manny, is that you?

Rummy, are you in there?

Pregnant...again

Well...according to the tabloids Britney Spears is pregnant again, proof that God does have a sense of humor.

That means two more kids growing up and talking to the media with riveting phrases such as...

"You know...like I was sooooo excited about my new purse you know, because it had...like...flowers and stuff, and it...like....wasn't...like...made in...like Taiwan by, you know, little...like...kids and stuff" "You know?"

Yeah...we...like...know.

Dinosaurs and us

There are three theories why the Dinosaur's became extinct:

1) A huge asteroid fell somewhere near the Yucatan Peninsula, causing an ice age and killing off everything except Keith Richards.

2) The Dinosaurs ate themselves out of house and home. When the food ran out, so did their time.

3) O.J. Simpson killed them.

I tend to agree with theory number 1 about the asteroid, but theory number 2 has validity as well. Dinosaurs were consumers, and consumers....well...consume.

Everything.

Until there is nothing.

It was several billion years later that the next species of consumers came along, and that of course is us. Not consumers in a she's a trophy-bride driving a Lincoln Navigator and if she can't go to Tiffany's, then there will be hell to pay kind of consumer.

Nope. We are energy consumers. Have been, will continue to be, and eventually we'll run out of it like our predecessors the Triceratops and his friends may or may not have, depending upon whether you believe theory 1, 2, or 3. In any case, we certainly DO have a problem, and you can't blame this one on Dubya. In my lifetime, I can remember every President going back to Richard M. Nixon seated in his chair at the White House, television camera's rolling, telling us how we must reduce our dependence on foreign oil.

Every last one of them. Presidents Nixon, Gerald Ford, James T. Carter, Ronald Reagan, Nancy Reagan, George HW Bush, William J Clinton, and George W Bush. Both parties represented. None of them did anything but talk about it. Congress has changed hands as far as the power of the majority goes several times in the last 40 years...Congress did nothing either. The automobile manufacturers helped out by designing cars and SUV's that weigh as much as a 757, but tend to use a lot more fuel. And see above for the trophy brides to know who buys and drives those beasts.

Soooo...whose fault is it? Yours. Mine. The Sierra Club's. The American realtors and commercial construction companies. The strip-mall association of America (yeah, yeah, I know. Shuddup...I can make this up as I go along. It's my blog).

And now gas is inchin' towards $3 a gallon, and Hurricane Yagoddabeeshittinme hasn't even landed yet. Think the price is going down when that happens? Think again.

Ok. We know it's our fault. We know we're consumers, and yes out there my tree-hugging protesters, I saw you drive up in that Hummer and park it where you didn't think anyone would see you. You're here protesting against tapping into our own reserves and building new refineries because you're afraid the one-legged, bi-sexual, green-horned, crustacean whoop-a-dong flea might get flushed out of his comfy home deep in the branches of the Alaskan oak preserve if we pump a few gallons of oil so I can afford to both go to work and return without having to rob a 7-Eleven along the way.

Ok. I hear you. Feed a cold; starve a fever. Feed a Saudi Arabian terrorism funder, starve an American child. Or is it starve a cold....awwww hell, I can never remember.

So carry on with the environmental arguments, and get really violent if someone disagrees with you. Tie yourselves together in a human knot and stand in a circle around Anwar; as a matter of fact, you should do it in February. Keep up the protests, but remember you may be forcing some unfortunates to downgrade from a Hummer to an H3, and you too might even have to get rid of the Villa in Aspen. Or at least the maid.

I'm thinking what killed the Dino's was stubbornness on thier part. The Eco-Dino's wouldn't let them eat any more leaves, so that killed off the Veggie Dino's...and the meat eaters did each other in until there was only one left standing, and then he died of boredom from having to talk to Keith Richards every day.

Or maybe OJ did kill them all. Allegedly.

Uncle!!!!

The following things make no sense to me:

An ad on the radio for an attorney's office that says, "Slip and fall? Call." Call who and why? You're a spaz, so your company should be sued? Plllleeeeeease!

MVP awards in sports. Why do they always give out the MVP awards to the guys with the best statistics instead of what the definition of MVP is? If he wasn't there, would the team have done as well? If the answer is 'probably', he's not the MVP, stupid.

Telephone voice prompts in the U.S. that say, "For English, press 1." I better not have to explain this one!

Test instructions that say, "Fill in every answer. There is no penalty for a wrong guess." What? Excuse me, but there sure as hell is!

A woman in a grocery store - in front of me of course - who asked the clerk if the question on the ATM machine, "Is this amount correct?" was for her to answer? Oh my God, somebody get me an oxygen mask!

Everyone knows that Braille on a drive-up ATM is retarded, but I drove up to an ATM at a Bank north of Orlando about a month ago that wasn't wide enough to accommodate my car. No, I don't drive a Hummer, but after the 76 Datsun went out of production, you'd think they would have modified the lane. Apparently not.


Ahhhh, no more...I'm starting to get pissed again. I'm heading off to Wendy's. My plan is to slip on the floor, spilling hot coffee on myself, and then sue them under the grounds that when I fell, I did so because I was staring at the finger in the other person's chili, while contemplating faking the fact that I was about to have septuplets.

That' outta be worth a few 'mil' at least.

Earl

On May 3rd, 2006 a retired Lt. Colonel from the US Army died. His name was Earl, and chances are, you may have heard of his son.

Just around 29 years ago or so, Earl was out hitting golf balls at a driving range in California, his 10 month old son in tow, dragging around his own 13 inch club, and playing with it in the dirt, and chewing on the grip end...as 10 month olds are supposed to do.

Earl looked down and asked the tot if he would like to try. The 10 month old grunted a yes, and stood up - left handed - drew the club back and swung.

He missed.

Three more misses later, he tried again. This time the ball arched upwards and landed about 8 yards away. Rather astonished, Earl showed the boy how to place his hands on the club in a proper grip.

The boy managed to somehow get just about every second ball airborne. When they went back home, Earl told friends and his wife of the occurrence, but no one really believed him.

He started taking the boy back to the range on a regular basis. One day, while still only a year old, it dawned on the boy that he was standing on the left side of the ball, while dad was standing on the right. In mid-swing, he stopped, walked around to the other side - adjusted his grip by himself - and nailed the first one he swung at. Earl knew he had something then.

Through the years, Earl invested all of his money and time into his growing son and the son's passion for golf. People from all over criticized Earl with comments like, "You can't push him - he's just a kid", and things of the like.

Isn't it interesting in our society how we can push a little girl to be a ballerina, we can home school and let a boy or girl become geeky social misfits in the name of a spelling bee, but if we even nudge our children when it comes to sports, we're terrible parents and horrible people.

$350.00 a week in dancing lessons? No problem!

Endless hour after endless hour learning the etymology of words like 'pestiferous'...as in...

Pestiferous.

The parents pestiferous insistence that their child eschew throwing around a ball with the kids in the neighborhood in lieu of more vocabulary studies was evident.

Pestiferous

Guess what spelling bee mom's and dads?

30 years later. The son has a personal wealth nearing a billion dollars, was voted the most recognizable athlete in the world, as well as the 3rd most recognizable personality in the world and enjoys a popularity among youth and adults unparalleled in our time or any other.

Earl was right all along.

It's here!!! It's here!!!

Uber Geeks unite!!!

It's finally here. No longer do you have to watch 1960's Star Trek episodes drooling over Uhura's super high tech digital communication device. You too can now own your dream, and at 50% off at that!

Yes, you'll be the envy of all your friends at the next convention. Imagine if you will, all those years of hanging out at the mall, living with your parents until you were 39, and never having a girl-friend outside of the 976 area code have now finally cashed in for you with the excitement of your own working earpiece cell phone. Models come with blinking red or blue lights (your choice), to let everyone you pass by know that you - and you alone - are in tune with the modern world.

You sir, aren't the average every day dweeb any longer!

You're a nerd with a neat device that is 100 times better than the Mattel Tri-Corder that constantly needs batteries, and 1000 times better than that Tyco Light Saber (although to be honest, we all know you still 'dig' the sound effects in the handle).

Laptops? We don't need no stinkin laptops! We got it all right here baby.....The Zoomziggy 5000 portable talk-o-lizer. Life as we know it will never be the same.


Live long and prosper, Eugene's of America. You've waited enough.

Congresswoman Cynthia McKinney

mo·ron n.
A stupid person; a dolt.

re·cal·ci·trant (r-kls-trnt)adj.
Marked by stubborn resistance to and defiance of authority or guidance

ac·count·a·ble (-kount-bl)adj.
Liable to being called to account; answerable.

NUFF' said.

Good God, it's about time!

Opening day has finally arrived, and the world is once again rotating properly on it's axis. The NY Yankees won yesterday 15-2, with Alice Rodriguez hitting a grand slam, Mary Sheffield scoring two runs and Jennifer Jason Giambi making an error in the first inning. As anyone wise to the machinations of baseball clearly knows, there is absolutely no way any other team is going to keep the Yankees from winning their 456th World Series title this October, right?



Uhhhh...well.....ummmmm....not so fast quickdraw.

Hooliman Aja Geechum guma guma guma

Salt Lake City UT.

The lawsuit continues today in the American Atheists Inc. vs. the State of Utah. It seems the state troopers erected 13 crosses in memorial tribute to fellow officers who died in the line of duty. The crosses were placed in December of 2005, and these memorials are seen as offensive to some.

The plaintiffs, Stephen Clark, Michael Rivers, and Richard Andrews are members of the American Atheists Inc. which claims a membership of 30 million. The organization is based in Texas.

Rivers, claimed in court "The himellybop wana wana, shoo shoo blah dee dah, violates my deeepegog mooma dooma"

The UHP said they simply wanted to honor the memory and bravery of their fallen comrades, to which Stephen Clark replied, "This is an outrage!! My sebbestia absodufia imbabda bada, chompo chompo resoundo umleeback teeka teeka has been systematically codwhipped by slimatosis and whipperslop banglesheeding."

Supporters of the memorials said the families of the deceased would be devastated and the legacies of the fallen policemen tarnished if the lawsuit is upheld.

Richard Andrews, last of the plaintiffs remarked, "Halla halla halla. Yipsee dowwa googledeeshama! Ina godda da vida, pluffenbucko wa wa wa wa wa."

The American Atheists Inc., issued a public denunciation of the crosses, in part saying "The separation of church and state, combined with a hooliman aja geechum guma guma guma is protected under the provisions of la la la figero humma humma beestow incestibiggot platimama shumshum halibashima."

A group of recalcitrant folks in Texas are offended. Awwww...boo-friggin-hoo. Maybe they should....ooooooh, I don't know....get a life?

In any case, I researched the Constitution that this particular group clings so strongly to. Try as I might, I could not find anything in the document that covers people being offended, short-changed by others, or even totally pissed off for that matter. Our ignorant forefather's stupidly created some sort of live-and-let-live society, and this of course is not fair to the fine folks of AAI. They feel they have exclusive rights to being offended, and even if they have to conversely offend the other 270 million people living here who think it's ok to have a memorial of any kind, they'll do it to protect their rights. Of course we all know the AAI is in the middle of an increasingly long line of people and groups that are currently offended, so we're asking their patience while we resolve this matter.

Democracy is in its finest finest hour. Enjoy!

Better than Da Vinci

Al Gore brought out his newest invention today, to the absolute delight of hundreds of millions world-wide.