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(Hat tip:&#160 Guido.)

Denizens, I have another homework assignment for you:&#160 This post, authored by the host of Krissy’s Absurdity, is a classic.

Krissy?&#160 Bra.&#160 Freakin’.&#160 Vo.

You.&#160 ROCK.


Gang, I’m not even sure where to start with this one. RCOB may be a good place….but even THAT doesn’t really come close to describing how entirely peeved I am.

Explosive. Nope, not close either.

Nuclear meltdown. Nope, but getting closer.

Let’s just say I have the ENTIRE base ready to bust outta the gates and deliver some good ol’ fashioned AMERICAN justice to some real PINHEADS over at (P)MSNBupChuck after reading about this over at The Blaze.

MSNBC is not known as a network that sympathizes with the wars in Iraq or Afghanistan, but this Memorial Day weekend, rather than put aside their political differences to salute our men and women in uniform, a panel on Chris Hayes’ show instead engaged in a debate over how to refer to our fallen soldiers.

Specifically, the panel debated over using words like “hero” because– in their words– the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan aren’t “worthy” causes.

These utterly clueless pinheads (borrowing a phrase most commonly used by Bill O’Reilly), well unpatriotic former citizens actually would be a better description, wouldn’t have any idea what constitutes: 1) a “hero”, 2) what is “worthy”, and 3) anything about America history. Apparently these arsewipes forget little things like……

When, in the course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the Political Bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the Powers of the Earth, the separate and equal Station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature’s God entitle them, a decent Respect to the Opinions of Mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the Separation.

That you oh so clueless talking pieholes is what we AMERICANS call the Preamble to the DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. Remember, that dusty old document that separated us from a tyrannical government and which very shortly later gave us THIS Preamble:

We the people of the United States, in order to form a more perfect union, establish justice, insure domestic tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general welfare, and secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.

You remember the Constitution right? That document that all those “heroes” defended and DIED for in order to PROTECT! That document you so ungraciously are choosing to THROW IN THE TRASH because it’s “too old” and “too rigid” or “outdated”. I take it you would prefer say a government like the NATIONAL SOCIALIST PARTY had during the 30s and 40s in Germany? Or, let me guess, you’d really like to have the great system under the COMMUNIST PARTY of the Stalin era? And I’m sure you’d just jump for joy to have a police state where organizations like the SS or Gestapo, or say the KGB would be the real controlling power. You’ like that wouldn’t you?

Someone please get me my emergency pallet of duct tape before my head EXPLODES!!!!

To second what David already posted earlier, certainly let’s all on this Memorial Day thank all those men and women who are currently defending our freedom and the Constitution but also pause to remember those who gave their life defending that Constitution and our freedoms. Not to mention those Founding Fathers who gave supremely because they had the conviction to stand up to a king and his tyrannical government and separate themselves from that destitution in order to form what we now live in.

If anyone else watched the Indianapolis 500 or the Coca-Cola 600 races yesterday, THOSE folks understand why and what our military sacrifice for. Just like David stated, I as well am proud to have served in our nation’s military. It was an honor and privilege I will never forget. Obviously it’s something no one over at the Pinhead Television Network has a clue about where to begin to comprehend something that the rest of us have readily praised and understood for a very long time now.

Honestly, the 21-gun salute, playing of Taps, or even the missing man aerial fly-by — while deserved — sometimes just isn’t enough to adequately portray the thankfulness and respect that each and every one of those who have gone before us defending our nation rightfully require.



The annual Memorial Day post is below the fold, as opposed to posting the link to the article in the Backyard&#153.

Also check out Denizen & fellow blogger Alan K. Henderson’s Memorial Day post here.

If you’re a veteran – either of a war long past or of one more recently waged – know that I and about 300,000,000 Americans are eternally in your debt.&#160 Mere words cannot express the degree of gratitude which we possess for what you have done – and are now doing – for us here at home.&#160 Therefore, two words alone will have to suffice:

Thank you.

What Is Memorial Day?
by LT Bobby Ross bobbyros@nashville.net

Reproduced with permission of the author

My years whirl past me. Swirling. Dry, broken grass hovering in a spring breeze. Can I remember my experiences in war? Hardly. Fighting for my country, my youth invested, seems such a long time ago, and so unimportant. The calendar this year marks Memorial Day on the 29th of May, 2000. Have I lost something? The traditional Memorial Day, also known as Decoration Day, is on the 30th of May. This observed Memorial Day on May 29th coincidentally allows for a national three day holiday. Such is commercialism’s capitalistic American display. But why do I feel so stricken, like I have abandoned old friends from long ago? Their ghosts consort with my floating years, and their spirits coast around my presence.

Another three day holiday! Memorial Day! Maybe me and the kids can go camping? Or, to the beach? Memorial Day is fun! This is the inconsiderate, thoughtless approach to this meaningful, and consecrated moment representing one three hundred and sixty-fifth of our year. What is the meaning of Memorial Day? Is it merely a three day escape from our worldly duties? Or, is it the official beginning of summer? Is selling more hot dogs at the ballpark the overriding clarification?

Many souls, sacrificed in war, in duty to America, are wandering. They drift in a heavenly place, minus their future here upon earth. Tomorrows were forfeited. Given up so our nation would invigorate free souls, aspire them to freedom, and justly allow their lives lived as they prefer. Raising offspring above restrictions, as they desire. Those lost lives giving we, the living, what we want freely. Those are the souls we respect on Memorial Day. This means it is a sacred day.

Without retrospect, sacrifice is mute. Old Glory does not wave by accident. It flutters in the spring air revealing honor. The color red represents the blood bloom from those who fell, those who clawed, those who cried in horrible pain. Those who died fast. And, those who died ever so slowly. They did their duty. When I see Old Glory waving on a sunny, end of May day, the pigment red gushes from millions of souls, floating, not with us, anymore. They are amongst our heroes, cajoling with angels with their champions, conquerors and commanders. Friends and loved ones gather, over the grave, witness to those who gave more than anyone should be required to relinquish. They did not want to yield. They were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and when the moment harshly struck them their fatal blow, they cried for their mother, or their friend. Then there were those, many of those, who knew exactly what they were giving. They moved forward knowingly. They lost their lives so their mission would be accomplished.

Fools! Some intellects can say that. One would have to be an imbecile to give up life, no matter what the cause. For a flag? Futile! For a country! More pointless! For freedom! What freedom is there in mortality? Yes, fools they may have been, but their numbers add up in an awesome display of American loss! Veterans’ Cemeteries, white badges sailing row after row after row upon green grass, almost never ending, creeping onto the horizon. Constant reminders of the devastation of our human treasure. Mothers’ tears, enough to fill an ocean to overflow. Sweethearts, broken hearted, reading telegrams. Sons and daughters, many unborn, wakening at birth to a devastated family suffering from a victim of war there no more. And what does all this macabre math equal? Memorial Day is the correct answer.

Few Americans know a person who died in war. Their family trees have lost some leaves, falling as they fought in one of America’s wars, or discarded in the peacetime military. We are a busy people. We have business to capture. Our kids are in school. We have chores. Mundane, or surrealistic. We are a spirited society, seeking applications to improve ourselves and our communities. We are a helpful populace, always there when the going gets tough to help those who have suffered the tragedies of nature, whether a hurricane or a famine. Americans are always the first on the scene worldwide bearing their gifts of human spirit and abundance. This is why it is so puzzling that the meaning of Memorial Day seems to lack substance to many of our own people. Even with the day itself. Put back to accommodate a holiday schedule fixed by some organism no one knows, yet powerful enough to do so, the day itself lacks consequence to too many. Many who never knew a person who died in service to America are wrought with the invisible pain of not feeling for those who do.

Americans take things for granted. We have so much. So very much. Endless choices. These options are not available worldwide. Our shelves are full. Unlike many in other nations of the world. So many are empty or offer very limited selections. Those American fighting men and women killed in battle whose souls are floating actually made available these wondrous choices we have every day of our American lives. Yet, most of our youngsters have no idea whatsoever what this means. They don’t learn this in school. We must teach them. For without knowledge, they may end up thinking, or believing, all these marvelous selections came without circumstance. Minus anything. Equaling no meaning.

Our nation needs to halt and perceive the flags and flowers on our Veterans graves on this consecrated holiday. We need to lift a common voice of adoration to those floating spirits of our onetime American Warriors, and extol them with a salutation. We have not come that far with our technological miracles of this millennium to become crass. We still need respect. Our backs can not turn from formality. Our eyes can not look away from custom. Our voices must not resonate in silence against honor and glory. To do so will leave us hollow, only to fill us with that which is desolate and lacking potential. This is not the true meaning of Memorial Day.

The heartfelt significance requires reminding. Story telling. Wisdom being passed on from our Veterans to our younger generations. An interpretation certified by those who remember the horrors of war. Without this core, our society can not remain genuine. It becomes contemptible. It rots from within. These floating souls of our lost American Warriors are a powerful force, for they live within our hearts. They constantly seek justification for their contributions, and they are real within us. Such is what our American substance stands for, where character is developed, individually is guaranteed, and a community, a nation, survives.

America enters the 21th Century as the most powerful entity humankind has ever experienced. America permeates this next century with vast responsibilities. Our children must bear this promise. We can not turn our backs on these bygone descendants, nor can we do so upon ourselves. Memorial Day offers us the opportunity to express a moment of solitude where each of us can personify in our own way what we feel. I only speak for my myself, as one who has bared his soul to the dread of war. So my father did, and his father’s father before him, and their souls float amongst the multitudes. My mother and her mother held their Veterans after they returned from war, tears streaming down their cheeks in gratitude for their safe return. And there were those in my ancestry who did not return from war. And their mothers’ tears soaked the pillows on beds for generations to sleep upon. Their souls are the dreams that drift amongst the floating, gathering at the end of May in the breeze of summer’s coming, in the cool glass of lemonade at the child’s street side stand, in the cheers at the ball game from the crowd rooting their team to victory and enjoying the best hot dogs in the world.

Let us all stop for a moment, whether it is on the traditional day, or the observed Memorial Day, or even at the end of May, and reach for those floating souls. Let us reveal to them how much we cherish their sacrifice for our free people. Let these memories harvest our recognition of the meaning of Memorial Day in a very simple wordy. And let that word, simply stated be: Thanks.

(copyrighted 2000)

(Permission to reproduce granted freely and unconditionally)

Bobby Ross


11 Music Square East
Suite #501
Nashville, TN 37203

A Proud Supporter of FARM AID!
Office 615 244-8725
SPLASH 2000!


SPLASH 2000!


Over the years, a number of my friends have taken time on Memorial day to thank my wife and me for our military service. We always respond with thanks of our own, but the truth is, this day is not about remembering those who have served and are still with us. This day is about remembering those who took the oath to protect and defend the our Nation’s Constitution, and lost their lives in that service.

I ask that today you remember in your prayers the families and friends of those Soldiers, Sailors, Airmen, Marines, Coastguards, and Peace Officers who gave their lives that we might remain free. I also ask that you continue to pray for the safety of those who remain in harms way.


Denizens, your homework assignment for the weekend is to read this treatise by Zilla of the Resistance.&#160 (It’s a long read, which is why you have all weekend.)&#160 Additional information can also be obtained here and here.

(Yes, that last one is a link to Malicious Malkin’s column, but there’s a reason for it.&#160 Don’t get ahead of me, mkay?)

Today is “Everybody Blog About Brett Kimberlin Day” in the Blogosphere.&#160 This chickenshit needs to be put down like the rabid dog he is, and together we can all play a part in doing so.

Oh, and Kimberlin?&#160 Fuck you, you pussified douchetard.&#160 Try coming after me or mine, and I’ll see to it you don’t go after anyone else.

Bank on that, chickenshit.


On this day in 1932 Eunice Ellen Louise Wunderlich Hartung entered the world. After serving her Lord in various vocations, including nurse, wife, mother, grand mother and even great grandmother, she was called to the church triumphant last July 12.

Mom, We miss you, but at the same time we celebrate the life you led, and the training in living life that you gave us.



Question for you, Denizens:&#160 Ever passed a cop running a speed trap & flashed your headlights afterwards to warn oncoming drivers?

Ever get a ticket for it?

Well, now you might actually have a case.

A judge in Sanford ruled Tuesday that a Lake Mary man was lawfully exercising his First Amendment rights when he flashed his headlights to warn neighbors that a deputy had set up a speed trap nearby.

That decision is another victory for Ryan Kintner, 25, who sued theSeminole County Sheriff’s Officelast year, accusing it of misconstruing a state law and violating his civil rights, principally his right to free speech.

He was ticketed Aug. 10 by a Seminole County deputy, but Kintner alleges the officer misapplied a state law designed to ban motorists from flashing after-market emergency lights.

Circuit Judge Alan Dickey earlier ruled that that state law does not apply to people who did what Kintner did, use his headlights to communicate.

On Tuesday the judge went a step further, saying people who flash their headlights to communicate are engaging in behavior protected by the U.S. Constitution.

Now, I expect this to go all the way to the Soprano Supreme Court, so this’ll be something to keep an eye on.

In the meantime, flash your headlights to yer heart’s content.&#160


We start my Glorious Week of Vacation&#153 with a Grab-Bag&#153 item, courtesy of the Sibling Unit&#153.

Subject: Fwd: Electric Fence

If you have ever used an electric fence or know someone who has one you should read this.

The language used is a bit salty, but ‘he tells it like it is’ without cursing.

If you don’t laugh hysterically at this,….CHECK YOUR PULSE…this is funny….and true. This was sent by a retired dentist.

We have the standard 6 ft. fence in the backyard, and a few months ago, I heard about burglaries increasing dramatically in the entire city. To make sure this never happened to me, I got an electric fence and ran a single wire along the top of the fence.

Actually, I got the biggest cattle charger Tractor Supply had, made for 26 miles of fence. I then used an 8 ft. long ground rod, and drove it 7.5 feet into the ground. The ground rod is the key, with the more you have in the ground, the better the fence works.

One day I’m mowing the back yard with my cheapo Wal-Mart 6 hp big wheel push mower. The hot wire is broken and laying out in the yard. I knew for a fact that I unplugged the charger. I pushed the mower around the wire and reached down to grab it, to throw it out of the way.

It seems as though I hadn’t remembered to unplug it after all.

Now I’m standing there, I’ve got the running lawnmower in my right hand and the 1.7 giga-volt fence wire in the other hand. Keep in mind the charger is about the size of a marine battery and has a picture of an upside down cow on fire on the cover.

Time stood still.

The first thing I notice is my pecker trying to climb up the front side of my body. My ears curled downwards and I could feel the lawnmower ignition firing in the backside of my brain. Every time that Briggs & Stratton rolled over, I could feel the spark in my head. I was literally at one with the engine.

It seems as though the fence charger and the piece of shit lawnmower were fighting over who would control my electrical impulses.

Science says you cannot crap, pee, and vomit at the same time. I beg to differ. Not only did I do all three at once, but my bowels emptied 3 different times in less than half of a second. It was a Matrix kind of bowel movement, where time is creeping along and you’re all leaned back and BAM BAM BAM you just crap your pants 3 times. It seemed like there were minutes in between but in reality it was so close together it was like exhaust pulses from a big block Chevy turning 8 grand.

At this point I’m about 30 minutes (maybe 2 seconds) into holding onto the fence wire. My hand is wrapped around the wire palm down so I can’t let go. I grew up on a farm so I know all about electric fences … but Dad always had those piece of shit chargers made by International or whoever that were like 9 volts and just kinda tickled.

This one I could not let go of. The 8 foot long ground rod is now accepting signals from me through the permadamp Ark-La-Tex river bottom soil. At this point I’m thinking I’m going to have to just man up and take it, until the lawnmower runs out of gas.

‘Damn!,’ I think, as I remember I just filled the tank!

Now the lawnmower is starting to run rough. It has settled into a loping run pattern as if it had some kind of big lawnmower race cam in it. Covered in poop, pee, and with my vomit on my chest I think ‘Oh God please die …. Pleeeeaze die’. But nooooo, it settles into the rough lumpy cam idle nicely and remains there, like a big bore roller cam EFI motor waiting for the go command from its owner’s right foot.

So here I am in the middle of July, 104 degrees, 80% humidity, standing in my own backyard, begging God to kill me. God did not take me that day …. he left me there covered in my own fluids to writhe in the misery my own stupidity had created.

I honestly don’t know how I got loose from the wire ….

I woke up laying on the ground hours later. The lawnmower was beside me, out of gas. It was later on in the day and I was sunburned.

There were two large dead grass spots where I had been standing, and then another long skinny dead spot where the wire had laid while I was on the ground still holding on to it. I assume I finally had a seizure and in the resulting thrashing had somehow let go of the wire.

Upon waking from my electrically induced sleep I realized a few things:

1 – Three of my teeth seem to have melted.

2 – I now have cramps in the bottoms of my feet and my right butt cheek (not the left, just the right).

3 – Poop, pee, and vomit when all mixed together, do not smell as bad as you might think.

4 – My left eye will not open.

5 – My right eye will not close.

6 – The lawnmower runs like a sumbitch now. Seriously! I think our little session cleared out some carbon fouling or something, because it was better than new after that.

7 – My nuts are still smaller than average yet they are almost a foot long.

8 – I can turn on the TV in the game room by farting while thinking of the number 4 (still don’t understand this???).

That day changed my life. I now have a newfound respect for things. I appreciate the little things more, and now I always triple check to make sure the fence is unplugged before I mow.

The good news, is that if a burglar does try to come over the fence, I can clearly visualize what my security system will do to him, and THAT gives me a warm and fuzzy feeling all over, which also reminds me to triple check before I mow.



Those of you who have read me for any&#160 length of time – well, you probably knew it was coming all along, didn’t you? – but you know damned well what this is.

For now, click the link.&#160 Go ahead.&#160 Click it.&#160 I effin’ dare&#160 you.

And turn it up.&#160 Waaaaaay&#160 up.&#160 &#160 )

That’s right, sportz fanz:&#160 It’s vacation time for His Rudeness&#153.&#160 A chance to Get Away From It All&#153 for the next 10 days or so.

Thanks to Bambi & his shitty economy, though, Mrs. Venomous & I are staying in town and not doing a helluva lot, due to the money just not being there.

MRS. VENOMOUS:&#160 Ohhhhhh, don’t worry, sweetie.&#160 We’ll find plenty&#160 of things to do. (wink)


Vicar, General – you guys have the conn.&#160 General…when you’re done chlorinating the gene pool of Occutards down there in the Southern Command&#153, could I borrow another squadron of those black helicopters…?&#160


Folks, A couple of weeks ago my brother Richard went to the Emergency Room with chest pains. It turns out that his ticker was just fine, but he had a 4 cm tumor on his pancreas. This past Tuesday the tumor was removed along with another one of his lymph glands. The pathological report showed the tumor to be malignant, and today he was told that the cancer is stage three.


While this is serious, it is by no means hopeless. What he has going for him is that it was found at an earlier stage than most pancreatic cancers. Once he heals from the Surgery, Richard will begin chemo and radiation treatment and we will see what happens. The raw truth is that only about 20% of pancreatic cancer patients survive past five years. Pleas keep my brother and his family in your prayers.




Yahoo & TMZ have reported that disco queen Donna Summer has passed of cancer at the age of 63.

More later.


The comic strips Funky Winkerbean&#160 and Crankshaft&#160 are written (or, in the case of Crankshaft, partially written) by a shit-for-brains named Tom Batiuk (rhymes with “attic”).&#160 His strips run in dozens (if not hundreds) of birdcage liners newspapers across the country…on comics pages which are very easily accessible to kids 3 years & up.

The last couple of weeks, this jackwagon Batiuk has been writing a storyline in Winkerbean&#160 where two heterophobic boys plan to go to a prom together.&#160 Naturally, Batiuk the douchetard is ridiculing those who would object and portraying them in the worst possible light:

Today, in a school assembly, Batiuk the pissweasel reveals his take on what he calls “intolerance” – which, not surprisingly, is the exact same as the rest of the heterophobe/Demoscum community:

Unless, of course, you rightly oppose homosexuality, and having it taught to/practiced by impressionable kids, who see it condoned in society (where only 30 short years ago it was rightly decried and treated as the perversion it is) and want to try it themselves.

In which case, they practice their intolerance towards you.

And the print media industry, which will happily accept this bullshit from Batiuk the heterophobe and run it in their comics pages, will then wring its collective hands in extreme angst and wonder why their many subscriber bases are steadily dwindling away, their readers having long ago decided that they were increasingly tired of being preached to and paying good money to have values they didn’t share shoved down their throats by a group of liberal assclowns.

It’s leftist pussies like you, Tommi Batiuk, that are slowly killing the newspaper industry.&#160 And when we stop giving you our hard-earned money, you bitch at us for being “intolerant”.

ESAD, widdle Tommi.&#160 I imagine you’ve lost a goodly portion of your readers the last couple of weeks.

“F.E.T.E.”, as the Imperial Torturer would be wont to say.






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