"Americans used to say where there's a will, there's a way. Nowadays, it's where there's a pill, there's a way out." - - Burnt Toast
Showing posts with label death. Show all posts
Showing posts with label death. Show all posts

2-Daze WTF R U THINKIN' Post. . .

Our Attorney General, the man who claims we are all race cowards, announced yesterday that some Guantanamo detainees could be released in America. Not to prisons in America, but released IN America.

Uhhh, Mr. Holder? I don't know, something is kinda bothering me about this, can't quite put my finger on it, but uh, um, uh, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU FUCKING TALKING ABOUT!!!???

It's official. Washington has been "changed" alright, into a goddamned insane asylum of untruthful, shyster, better-than-thou, pansy, activist bastards who hate this country. They not only hate this country, they obviously want to see it destroyed from within, all in the name of political correctness and oh, oh, yeah, like we don't want the Europeans thinking anything bad about us!

Like, we poured water down a silly little terrorist's throat. Eeewww, I bet that didn't feel too good. Awwww, the poor fellow. I bet he had some psychological trauma because of that. Awwww.

We obviously the criminals.

Remember? (extremely violent images, you have been warned)

Liberals? Screw you!

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I Got The News. . .

Headlines from Houston - January 12, 2008

Well, there I was, sitting in the airport, a brown stain on my pants and waiting. This is the third time in four trips that coffee has outsmarted this intelligent human by way of avoiding my digestive system and instead hitching a ride on some part of my body back to Jackson.

The first episode happened on the plane a few weeks ago. I was enjoying my coffee as I read a book about WWII and occasionally catching a glimpse of the clear morning sky through the window as we crossed into Louisiana. I reached for the cup on the center seat tray table and had one of those completely uncontrollable bodily conniptions, which sent the scalding liquid on a direct flight to my crotch.

*ding*

Stewardess, may I have lots of paper towels. LOTS of them.

The second spillage, my luggage on wheels got hung up in the expansion joint of the sidewalk sending a low-pass oscillation through my left arm, across my shoulders, through the right arm, which snapped like a whip sending a brown shower of warm juice all over my hand, arm, clothing and book.

Yesterday's episode was a unknown leak in the travel mug of coffee. You see there how I've adjusted my behavior by using a sippee cup. Smart me, huh? Little did I know that every drink I took caused a few dribbles of coffee to leak out and drop onto my groin/upper leg area. Looking sharp dipshit!

Anyway, nothing a well placed newspaper won't fix today. And what a sad read it was especially on a beautiful, yet chilly Monday morning.

The front page story was of the memorial of a woman who refused to leave her home during Hurricane Ike and perished when the storm surge washed her home away in Galveston. She was found two months later, over 12 miles from her home. From reports, she was a dynamic and well-loved human being who touched many lives. Sad.

Beneath that, a picture of Eli Manning with the palm of his hand against his forehead, like, "Doh!" Exactly Eli, exactly.

Then more bad news. A young lad of 22 years was apparently driving over 100 m.p.h. Sunday, when he crashed into a van resulting in a fiery crash that killed 5 people, including his 18 year old girlfriend. The four other people killed were the 78 year old driver of the van, his brother, sister-in-law and the husband of his niece. The driver's niece, also traveling in the van, through the mercy of God, was ejected and survived, although broken to bits from the impact.

The young driver of the speeding car is currently sedated and in critical condition with major intestinal injuries, a broken arm and leg. He still doesn't know of the deaths as his family, doctors and police wait for him to awaken.

On a lighter note, but disturbing in it's own sinister way, is a decidedly left-wing push to ban ALL cell phone usage while driving. Not just handsets, but handsets and hands-free. I'll dilute the story for you into one short sentence fragment. Fuck you!

Banning cell phones is ignorant. We already have reckless driving laws, why not use those? And what about people who are doing other distracting things, like eating while driving or putting on makeup or like a guy I saw years ago just outside of Vicksburg with the newspaper opened fully against the steering wheel completely blocking his view going 70 miles per hour? On a more serious note, what about things that are really distracting like passenger to driver blowjobs? Should we ban blowjobs too?

Or what if we just banned passengers all together. And while we're at it, let's ban talking. And farting. Ever had someone let a big, greasy, ass-burner fly in the car? Now, that is distracting!

So, when that stupid shit doesn't work, let's do ourselves a great big favor and simply ban people. There!! Problem solved!! No people. No talking. No distracted drivers.

*sigh*

I guess you can't ban stupid. On the highway or in a bloated non-profit bureaucracy either.

I got on the plane and glanced across at the empty seats, which is not uncommon on the short hop to Jackson, and it gave me pause.

I thought of the woman all alone in her home, riding out a storm, her future uncertain in the face of calamity. I thought of the young man, his body crushed to pieces, his brain inert and his heart soon to be emptied of all hope and will.

I looked out the window beside me and thought, "This is a fine time for a car wash!" Actually, it was de-icer, but that's what I thought anyway!

As I left Houston, I looked down and thought of the leaving behind, the abandonment of emotion and hope.

I pondered as I gazed at the city sprawl of Houston.

How many people down there are going through a crisis? A definitive moment in their lives, a life changing event, a critical turning point of decision, beginning or end. Must be millions of them. Struggling, hurting, wishing for a better situation. I felt, in that moment, that life was truly unfair and bears no mercy on any and all living creatures.

We all feel the burdens of our daily trials and tribulations, the yoke of life which weighs upon us. And somehow through it all, we survive. We thrive. We adapt and overcome, asborbing many lessons in our perpetual quest through life. And all we can do in the end, is make the best of it, grab the bright spots by the tail and don't let go. Fight off the dark moments with the strength of knowledge. A yeoman's work for us all, humanity.

I felt a little better after my reflection, after I lived the pain and sadness of what I found in the day's news. Everything will be alright.

I looked out over a cloud covered Ross Barnett Reservoir and felt strength.

The clouds are lifting and the sun is shining, filtering light into the darkest corners, shooing away the pain, hurt, and disappointment.

There are constants in life, the predictable patterns of our daily routines and also the constant worry of the unknown, the pain that lurks in hiding waiting for an opportunity. Nevertheless, we cannot fear the unknown in our lives, we must move ahead with confidence taking on any challenges as they present themselves. The solution is always there.

Adaptation. Just like the airport parking lot kitty above. He's always there, but one day he may not be, and in between those events is the struggle. The struggle for life.

We are all there, in the thick of it, treading the downstream waters of life. Surviving and thriving and making it the only way we know how: the best we can.

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This Day In History. . .

September 19. An important day to remember.

In 1356, the English Army defeated the Fench at the Battle of Poitier during the Hundred Years War.

In 1881, President James A. Garfield died from wounds suffered after an assasination attempt.

In 1985, a terrible earthquake shattered Mexico City resulting in tens of thousands of dead and injured.

Septemeber 19, 1778, the Continental Congress passed the first budget of the United States.

On September 19th, in New Zealand, the Electoral Act of 1893 is passed giving women the right to vote.

And on September 19, 1995, two goobers from Oregon founded International Talk Like A Pirate Day.

But all of these days pale in comparison to the afternoon of September 19, 1970, when on a sunny and warm Saturday afternoon, a slim and dark skinned man with neatly coiffed and Brylcreemed hair poked his head into a hectic delivery room at St. Dominics Hospital in Jackson, Mississippi and declared, "If y'all don't deliver that damn baby right here and now goddammit, I'm gonna miss the goddamn Ole Miss football game! Hurry up!"

And there I was. . .and life has never been the same.

This year, I celebrate my birthday in sadness. My sister's first husband, Tony, passed away yesterday morning from complications of cancer. He was too damned young to die, but some people are not spared from the rueful unfairness of life.

Tony never knew he had cancer until it was too late. He was driving down the road several months ago with one of his sons and began to experience excruciating pain in his side. The pain was so great that he had to pull over and lie down in someone's driveway. An ambulance ride and multiple tests later it was confirmed that he had tumors in his adrenal glands. Further tests indicated tumors in the lung, brain and colon.

Chemotherapy and radiation treatments took quite the toll, as they always do, but Tony trudged on. Surgery was performed on the tumor at the base of his brain and gamma knife treatments began on the other two tumors in the frontal lobes. The cancer was stunted, but never in remission, and it was simply a struggle to live each day.

The cancer at the base of the brain returned, this time in spades. Three tumors replaced the one removed by earlier surgery. Another surgery later, a shell of a man remained. Tony was just never the same. He had most of his motor skills, but memory and emotion was a challenge. He was constantly convinced that he had already eaten or had something to drink and his family had to find creative ways to trick him into taking another bite or sip of Ensure.

Tony knew he was going when the end came and he passed with a smile on his face according to his wife. I know that Tony fought as hard as he could, but the reality was he was already defeated before the fight began. Tragic.

I saw Tony before he was diagnosed with his dreadful terminal illness. He looked healthy to the eye and was heavier than I had ever seen him before. It's hard to imagine that he was being eaten up inside when I saw him, but I like to remember him as how I saw him that day. Smiling, laughing, in a good humor and well.

I guess the lesson learned here is to love each life, day and event because whether in a milli-second or a long haul trudge, life always ends. Our duty, the ones left behind, is to continue living for those gone and to take our lives, the good parts and the bad, and use them for the betterment of all of us.

Life is complex, challenging, unpredictable and oftentimes, quite unfair. But take the time, make the effort to make something of your life. Give a part of your life to someone else. Share it, reveal it, and revel in the beauty of our world together because one day your eyes will close, your mind will fall silent and your heart will finally rest.

Make your mark while you can. It's your only chance.

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Burglers Buggled By Babylonic Blasts. . .

This is why I like the Castle Doctrine and why Texas kicks ass.

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You're Late!!!

There is not much more that I can add to the article you'll find at this link other than this is why our President is an awesome, often fallible, but compassionate human being and Barack Obama is an elitist dipshit.

Thanks go the the goober retards at AoSHQ for the original posting of this link.

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Strike Three.

Today was a sad loss for the Atlanta Braves family. Skip Carey, their longtime, award-winning announcer died in his sleep Sunday at the age of 68.

Skip has been a part of my life through radio and television since I was a kid. To think that I will no longer hear his voice as part of the Braves broadcast saddens me to no end. He was like family. My dad and I always laughed at the sharp wit and laser-sharp analysis that some found some displeasing, for us it was a joy to hear.

I can remember one game at Shea stadium against the Mets many years ago. John Smoltz had already given up four home runs in an inning and was falling apart. Ryan Klesko, to make matters worse after the fourth homer, picked up the baseball after a base hit into left field along with a handful of swirling garbage and proceeded the throw the ball at a ninety-degree angle into the wall of the stadium to his right, which caused a complete meltdown by Smoltzie. The next pitch was a heater right into the back of some Met player, which rightfully cleared both benches. As the melee ensued, Skip quipped, "I think Smoltzie is throwing at the wrong guy." That was Skip in essence.

I don't care what others say about the nepotism and how he wouldn't have ever had made it without his father Harry and frankly it may be true. But Skip carved out his own life in the hard luck life of announcing and he will certainly be missed by many and if not, he is most definitely being missed by me.

Rest in peace Skip. We love you.

More about Skip's passing here, here and here.

At the second link, you can find Skip's famous call as Sid Bream, bad braced knee and all, scored from second base in Game 7 of the 1992 NLCS against Pittsburgh. Still gives me the chills.

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