C’mon guys, smile. It isn’t that bad being called a Turkey
“Hey, did you let one rip?”
At least you got the Flag right Donald. Not like our dear leader Trudeau, while welcoming the Belgian Royals who were here in Canada to thank our military for our participation in the Great War. It’s bad enough that we don’t have any flagpoles to raise these flags in unison. I guess Trudeau had Merkel on his mind when he raised a glass, er flag to welcome the royals
It is this one Trudeau.Oh well. Perhaps you are colour blind, or colour coordinated challenged. Looking at this I can see why.
“Dear Chivas (Regal). Pray, pray, pray that I put up the right flag when the Belgian Royals visit.”
Can you imagine the uproar in Canada if the US had done something like that? They don’t like us! They really, really don’t like us….wow!
From the hoax of the Century file comes this:
Aliens discovered in Peru. They have 23 chromosomes just like us but only three fingers – just like Kate Middleton. Perhaps a member of an alien royal family! Say what? Is that a yoga pose the alien is doing?
Markle makes major fashion faux pas. What you may ask? Well, she left the tailor’s tack on the vent or slit of her coat. Whoaaaaaa! It’s the end of the world as we know it.
Meanwhile….Hmmmm. Can’t think of anything to outdo that bit of fluff.
I saw a documentary about Flint Michigan on Netflix last week. Covered off the decline of the town and the plight of law enforcement in their attempt to serve their public. It was sad. Of course it then degenerated into the usual progressive thought process about whitey, white privilege, racism, bigotry and everything else that seems to be in vogue in today’s victimization culture. Interesting that all of the racist rhetoric in this toxic vein of a documentary originated from people of colour.
I am getting fed up with it all. Here is my take on it:
I am Caucasian and I make no apologies for the colour of my skin;
I have worked very hard for everything that I have accomplished over the years. No one gave me any perks or handouts because of my skin colour;
I do not have a racist bone in my body so stop calling me a racist just because of the colour of my skin or my views;
Yes, there are bad, racist white folk out there just as there are bad, racist people of colour;
Victimization and identity politics is ruining our country;
Take responsibility for your own actions and stop blaming everyone else for your failures or your faults;
Get an education;
Work, work and work again;
Don’t get pregnant at 16;
Don’t do drugs. Stay away from marijuana;
If you have to move to find work then move;
Don’t expect the military, law enforcement, essential services to adapt to your needs. You must adapt to meet theirs;
You’re being paid to work so work;
No one owes you a living;
Political correctness is undermining our values;
Embrace personal failures or setbacks as a learning experience;
I don’t criticize you for your atheist views so stop criticizing me for my Christianity;
There are and will be consequences for your actions, good or bad;
If you want to be gay, transgendered or LGBTQUERTY, so be it but stop pushing your lifestyle onto me. I do not care. It makes no difference to me;
We should not have to adapt to meet your needs. You have to adapt to meet the needs of your employer, family and your community;
If you see garbage lying around, clean it up;
Get involved with your children;
There is nothing wrong with being a stay at home mom or pop;
If you do not have any responsibilities then you have no rights;
Self discipline!;
There is more to life than granite countertops or stainless steel appliances;
Take back you community;
Live within your means;
The government owes you nothing;
You are not entitled to anything that you haven’t worked hard for.
That is my rant for today.
Heard this song the other day. Brought back a lot of memories:
Something different today. An excerpt from my book: KUROFUNE: THE BLACK SHIPS – A Novel of World War II.
The sun was now getting higher and higher off of the eastern horizon. The once beautiful orange, yellow, and reddish glow of the sunrise was now tarnished by the thick, black, brown and grayish pall of the smoke plumes covering Betio and the immediate vicinity due to the highly explosive nature of the Naval gunfire support and the air strikes. The air was becoming heavier and heavier and thick with the smell of detonation, destruction, explosions, and cordite. It was the smell of death. These thick, black plumes of smoke rose out from under the coconut palms and the fields of the island, then up and over the lagoon, spreading out like a blanket of terror of biblical proportions, dark and impervious. Rows upon rows upon rows of coconut palms were scarred, naked, and pitted—their ragged palm fronds hanging down, limp, as if the life had suddenly been snuffed out of them by some horrendous otherworldly force. No tree escaped the carnage of the shelling that swept across the entire length and breadth of the island. Collectively, the palm trees just stood there, motionless, ragged in the light tropical breeze, as if standing upright in a desolate, mysterious landscape, like sentinels to hell itself. The landscape was pockmarked with both deep and shallow craters, like the surface of the moon. And, like the surface of the moon, the island was lifeless. Overlaying it all, a light gray mist hung in the air like suspended dust particles, coagulating into everything within this maelstrom of terror. Combat dust! On this island of doom, nature’s colorful palette of tropical hues—the many shades of blue, green, and turquoise—surrendered to this monochromatic nightmare. It was an eerie sight to behold.
The naval gunfire barrage continued raining death and destruction among the Japanese defenders. A sixteen-inch shell found its mark on one of the Vickers guns. The subsequent explosion of the ammo dump sent shells, debris, and shockwaves from one end of Betio to the other and across the lagoon.
“Heads down,” somebody screamed. Was Armageddon that far behind? Ted wondered, feeling the cataclysmic detonation. It was horrendous. His whole world shook.
The naval bombardment had gone on now for almost three hours. Sooner or later, it would be time for the Marines to turn to and head directly for the beach. The Marines of the first wave held back in the lagoon at the departure line in their Alligators, landing craft tanks, and their Higgins boats, but it would soon be time for the landing. In the meantime, they were getting anxious and sick of the tumultuous movement of the landing craft. Seaworthy they were not. Even Ted was anxious to go. Not really seasick, he was becoming nauseous watching his colleagues retch from the motion of the Higgins. The seasickness and the dry heaving were horrific, as everything that had been in their stomachs from breakfast was now awash in the boat’s bilge. A sour, pungent, and slightly acidic odor permeated the air. That, combined with the nauseating diesel fumes and collective sweat of all the men, was enough to turn anyone pale.
Do men get one as well? True-dope must be happy. He can dress up as a woman today. After all he was a Sikh yesterday and even a Prime Minister the day before that, but that didn’t go over well!
Love McDee’s tribute to women everywhere. They flipped their iconic “M” upside down to display a “W.”
“In celebration of women everywhere, and for the first time in our brand history, we flipped our iconic arches for International Women’s Day in honor of the extraordinary accomplishments of women everywhere and especially in our restaurants,” McDonald’s global chief diversity officer, Wendy Lewis, said in a statement.
“Yeah, will you have fries with that?” a huge accomplishment I would say.
And what about men? Perhaps this symbol is appropriate for International Men’s Day!
Hey, we’re coming to get ya. “W”….hoa. Yesssssssssssss.
Sound like a sale at “W”…almart doesn’t it?
Oxymoronic “Headline of the “W”….eek:
“Trump’s Restraining Order on a Porn Star!” Sounds kinky to me. But hey I’m just a dirty and grumpy old man.
This just in from the UK. Head…line News. In time for a Royal wedding night!
The rumour: A British company is making Harry and Meghan condoms
A company called Crown Jewels (guffaw) is reportedly releasing limited-edition Harry and Meghan condoms in commemoration of the royal wedding…night. The four-pack comes with a certificate of authenticity and plays an “exclusive” mash-up of “God Save the Queen” and “The Star Spangled Banner” when you open the…er… box. Authenticity? Yes, used only once!
Seems like this Rare Earth song also plays at a certain point:
They, the Royals, are calling them, the condoms, a limited edition. “Seems appropriate on this International Woman’s Day” a royal watcher was heard to say. “Screw them” another added.
It seems the “Doomsday Clock” professor has been put on leave due to sexual allegation allegations. His defence: “I have been doing this doomsday clock thingy now for so many years that my judgement has become blurred.”
Yes, instead of hearing…tick, tock, tick, tock, tick tock 24/7 the professor now professes to hear… dick dock, dick dock, dick dock. “I had no choice. I just had to act on my impulses” he lamented. “If I have offended any of my female doctor colleagues I am truly sorry.” What a dick.
This just in from our feminist Prime Minister.
In a conversation with Bill..” the end is nigh” Nye, Trudeau made the profound statement that we are all scientists when we are babies. In between the ums, and the ahs he stated. “Yes. If I make this noise I get milk. If I push this button or knock something off the table I get hurt. Yes, everyone is a scientist.” Bill attempted to replicate Trudeau’s hypothesis but all he got for his effort was a shitload in his pants. “That depends” was all that the peer review could come up with after this extraordinary exchange between these two giants of progressive thought….yes. Yes it does. Yes it does.
To put more salt to the intellectual wound Trudeau then bragged about his Noble (sic) Laureate Science Minister. Unfortunately she isn’t but hey, who cares, after all I am the Prime Minister of Canada and you’re not. Trudeau was heard to remark. He then went off with his feminist faux woman friends.After all, this is 2018 and Canada is 100 years old…according to out dear, dear leader.
This, my dear friends is out Prime Minister! To hell with the Doomsday Clock. We here in Canada are already DOOMED! It is already past midnight here in Canada.
On Sunday night Earnest I. White, twin brother of Walter, and founder of the AR15 Rifle Association, called on……..
In this International Day of Women, a leftist woman declares that the expressions “Merry Christmas” or “God Bless You” as triggering Islamophobia micro-aggression and must be banned. Okay, the next time I hear a Muslim woman sneeze I am going to say: “Fook Off.” That should do it.
A little ditty I wrote some time ago. I think everyone can relate to this at some point in their lives:
Frustration! That sinking feeling when nothing seems to go according to Hoyle.
And who is that guy Hoyle anyway?
Yet, as much as we try to rectify a situation or make ourselves understood, for whatever reason, we just fall farther and farther and farther into a bottomless pit. No matter how hard we try to dig ourselves out, with every shovelful of dirt, the deeper and deeper we sink into the quagmire.
Is there anything we can do about this?
In my humble opinion there is nothing that can be done. Oh yes, I have checked with leading psychologists and sociologists and they all tell me that it is just a natural everyday occurrence of life. There is absolutely nothing in this world of ours that you can do about it. It sucks. Bigly. Indeed, the local Mill Bay astrologist tells me that the stars are sometimes aligned against us. Orion steps of the crab….me! It is better just to accept our fate, go with the flow, and disengage until things get better.
I found myself in a frustrating situation a few weeks back that illustrates just what I mean. Consider this:
Once a week I buy my lunch at work, usually on a Wednesday. And I normally go for the cholesterol fix of a greasy hamburger with cheese and bacon and a side order of onion rings. You know, all of the major food groups of the day. Now this artery busting concoction comes to about $5.75 with tax. It has been the same price for months.
One Wednesday I wandered down to the cafeteria, checked my money, and noticing that I had only about 6 bucks, I decided to order my usual. When the order came up I moseyed on up to the cash and waited for my turn to pay. The cashier, a rather petite French Canadian girl, took my order, rang it in, and told me I owed her $6.50. Wait a minute. Just a little surprised and somewhat embarrassed because I was short of funds, and, knowing the price from past purchases, I told her that she must have made a mistake.
“No, no, no,” says she, rather emphatically. “That,” pointing to my order, “is the Banquet Burger Special. $6.50 please.”
“What special?” says I
“Banquet burger, fries or onion rings and a drink.” She said
“But I don’t have a drink.” I countered
“Well get one” she ordered, like the drill sergeant that she was. I checked to see if she was wearing army boots. Nope, okay.
“But I don’t want one. Tell you what. Just ring in the banquet burger and an order of onion rings.”
“I can’t do that” she said. “You have the special and you owe me $6.50. Now pay up!”
Incensed, and totally frustrated, knowing full well that the line was getting longer. I could feel the customers behind me. Their eyeful stares felt like daggers and their exaggerated sighs and harrumphs seemed to be burning a rather large hole in my back. I was flushed with rage.
My blood boiling, I left the line and went back to the short order cook. I checked the menu: Banquet Burger – $3.25, Onion Rings – $1.50. With tax about $5.50. The special? – Banquet Burger, Fries or Onion Rings and a Large Drink – $5.95, with tax – about $6.50.
I waited in line and when the cook asked for my order I showed him mine and told him that I only wanted a Banquet Burger and Onion Rings. Could he please mark my order as such and charge me $4.75.
“Sure.” He said. He took my styro-foam take out box and marked the outside as a Banquet Burger and a side order of Onion Rings – rather than the special. Pleased with myself, and confident, I sauntered back to the cashier. “I’ll show her who’s boss here,” I thought to myself, rather smugly. She looks at me rather objectionably, looks at the box, then rings up $6.50. I tell her she is making a mistake. Banquet Burger and Onion Rings…only.
“Yes” she says, “the special.”
“No, no, no,” says I, rather emphatically. “It is not the special. It is the Banquet Burger and Onion Rings. No drink.”
“Well, get a drink” she says.
“But I DO NOT WANT ONE.”
“I’m sorry, that is the special and you owe me $6.50.”
“Well I am short. I’ll be right back.”
What could I do? My blood continued to boil, my blood pressure, well…pressurized and ready to pop. Totally frustrated in not being able to make myself understood, I left the box on the counter and walked briskly over to the cash ATM that we had in our building. I would take out a 20 and pay for the special. What the hell, a buck fifty for a cash advance plus an additional buck fifty that my bank was going to charge me. 3 bucks plus, PLUS the damn special – $9.50 for the Banquet Burger. I was so mad, but I wasn’t going to take it anymore. I would have paid 100 bucks to get out of this predicament. I felt like George Costanza of Seinfeld fame.
To make matters worse the ATM was out of order. Of course it was, on this day and at this moment in time. It was never out of order. Oh yes but it knew, this machine knew, that poor old Johnny was in a predicament. Yes, yes it knew all right. Paranoia was setting in. I was close to turning postal, and psycho.
I guess some guy noticed my frustration.
“Hey, if you need some money the convenience store will give you a cash advance.”
“Great” I said, trying very hard to keep my cool and my anger checked.
I walked over to the little store and asked very politely but somewhat impatiently for a cash advance.
“Sure,” said the clerk, “But you’ll have to buy something for 5 bucks.”
What? What’s that you said. 5 bucks?? Hmmmmm. Okay, okay what the hell: chocolate bar, soap, chips, deodorant. Sure, 5 bucks. “Here,”
“Now give me the bleep, bleep money” – I thought to myself.
Money in hand and with a bagful of unwanted goodies, I went back to the cafeteria, picked up my take-out box, went to the cash, gave her 10 bucks and left without waiting for my change. I was afraid at what I would do.
“Hey, don’t you want your drink,” she yelled at me as I high tailed it out of there.
A true story. And one that I am sure everyone has experienced at some time or another. Anal retentiveness. Yesss and perhaps the most underused expression in our vocabulary. And one of my favourites.
So? What can one do? What can you do?
I remember driving home, still incensed. Not a very smart thing to do: getting behind the wheel of a 2 ton machine, driving through downtown Ottawa, facing the summer road construction, and pedestrians. Yes pedestrians, they were all targets of my frustration. Should I or shouldn’t I? Hmmm.
And yet, driving along Colonel By Drive toward Hogsback Falls, I was oblivious to the sweet smell of summer, the tranquil waters of the Rideau, the sparkling green silken sheen of Dow’s Lake. Past Carleton University, up a small hill to the traffic light at Hogsback Falls. The light was red. Of course it was. Waiting and waiting and waiting for what seemed to be an eternity – the falls to my left, the water crashing against the rocks. And I was sure the rock gods were laughing at me in the summer’s sun. “Morrison? What an idiot,” they all mocked at me. “Hey, Morrison, idiot, do ya want a drink? Ha,ha ha!” I was still ticked – and the whole world was out to get me and… I was getting weird!!
Just then a parade of black cars appeared. They were all turning left onto Col By from Prince of Wales Drive, their headlights on. And then, a long black hearse appeared. Majestic, solemn and silent, its smooth polished grain moved graciously, as if floating, through the traffic. Watching, reverently, as the motorcade drove by, I thought to myself.
“Y’know John, Things could be a great deal worse.” And with that the light turned green and I was on my way – but this time a song was brewing in my heart and a smile began to form on my face. Yes, life was good.
Yet I had to ask myself: “I wonder if he, or she, in the back of that big black hearse, had just wanted the Banquet Burger and Onion Rings too.”
It is this one Trudeau.
“Dear Chivas (Regal). Pray, pray, pray that I put up the right flag when the Belgian Royals visit.”
Aliens discovered in Peru. They have 23 chromosomes just like us but only three fingers – just like Kate Middleton. Perhaps a member of an alien royal family! Say what? Is that a yoga pose the alien is doing?![a group of people walking on a sidewalk: meghan_markle_tailor_s_tack]({"default":{"load":"wait","src":"//img-s-msn-com.akamaized.net/tenant/amp/entityid/BBK8j1J.img?h=373&w=624&m=6&q=60&o=f&l=f&x=544&y=184"}} "meghan_markle_tailor_s_tack - Provided by Business Insider Inc")
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“
Hey, we’re coming to get ya. “W”….hoa. Yesssssssssssss.
After all, this is 2018 and Canada is 100 years old…according to out dear, dear leader.