God Hates Oklahoma

The holiest, most righteous church on Earth, everyone's favorite, the Westboro Baptist Church of Topeka, Kansas, is now picketing the funerals of children who happen to die in Oklahoma.

Why Oklahoma? Because at some point in the last few weeks they were in Oklahoma and someone slashed their tires. Because of this person (or persons), they've come to a new conclusion, reflected on their signs, according to this article, that "God Hates Oklahoma."

That's hilarious. God hates Oklahoma? I've been there a couple times, and I'm not that crazy about it either. No, seriously, it wasn't bad. I had a nice time there.

Oklahoma gave us Carrie Underwood and Merle Haggard's song about Muskogee. It can't be all bad.

The article is apparently true. It only sounds like something hilarious. God hates Oklahoma because these guys got their tires slashed. I wonder what He'll do if something worse happens. We might all be in for an asteroid attack. LOL.

Happy Veterans Day

Happy Veterans Day! I myself never had the honor to serve -- with my game toe -- but I had several uncles in the various wars and my Grandpa was in World War ought I. Some of the uncles were in World War ought II. They were part of the Greatest Generation, but I don't think they knew it till Tom Brokaw told them, and they were dead before that.

Anyway, I have the freedoms I have today ... to post this blog with fear of reprisals from the Communists and Nazis ... because of my family members.

A couple of my uncles were pilots in Vietnam, and one of them was involved in that whole refueling in the air routine, with the big pipe going from one plane to another. There were always real spiffy photos of the uncles on the shelves at Grandma's.

As for Grandpa, I don't remember him saying word one about his service in World War ought I. So I have no idea what he did, except I guess he was overseas. There's a picture of him standing there in his uniform with a fake tent backdrop behind him. I have a copy of the picture. I keep thinking, good thing he didn't take lead in the groin or I wouldn't be here today.

Now that I think of it, why would they send my Grandpa overseas to war? Anything might've happened to him and I wouldn't be here today. If ever I heard of a reason to stop sending men to war, that's it!

Apologizing To The Head Stomper

I heard a great story, which turns out to be true, that the guy who stomped the head of the MoveOn activist expects an apology.

They showed the brave man in an interview from the neck down. And that's what he said he wants. An apology, by cracky.

Dear Whoever,

I'm so sorry my head ended up under your foot. I'm so sorry that when you started stomping, apparently fully aware of my head's presence, that my foot was there to make contact with your foot. From now on, I'll try my hardest to avoid being pushed and pulled to the sidewalk by political goons, so that my head won't be in the way of those consciously trying to stomp me to mush.

Sincerely yours,
Your Guilty Victim

A Little Off The Top

I've flown under the radar so long, I should be a forest barber. I've been clipping the top of the trees.

Hitler Is Hitler

Hitler is Hitler.

Afraid Of Airspace

The firemen were out with their boot today, I assume raising funds for the annual telethon. I don't especially like seeing this kind of thing, firemen blockading the door of the store, but that's how they get the big bucks.

So of course they always have one boot. That's quite a custom.

My excuse for not giving, if they asked, would be, "I'm afraid of reaching my hand in a boot." I imagine they would reply that I don't have to put my hand in but can just drop the money in. To which I would have to say, "I'm even afraid of the airspace above it."

I can't imagine they'd be silenced at this point, because they might say I could simply put the money in their hand. To which I would be forced to respond that I'm also afraid of the airspace above their hand.

The fact is, I don't give because I'm deathly afraid of both boots and airspace.

Time Is Inane

Time passes so quickly. It's inane.

I'm sick of looking up and realizing another nine or ten days have passed.