Sgt Hook tells us a story about an Afghan hero, who saved lives.
He got it from an email sent to him by a longtime reader. The email was from an Army Captain currently in Afghanistan.

Anyway, there is this one Afghan that we call Rambo. We have actually given him a couple of sets of the new ACU uniforms (the new Army digital camouflage) with the name tag RAMBO on it. His entire family was killed by the Taliban and his home was where our base currently resides. So this guy really had nowhere else to go. He has reached such a level of trust with US Forces that his job is to stand at the front gate and basically be the first security screening. Since he can’t have a weapon, he found a big red pipe. So he stands there at the front gate in his US Army ACU uniform with his red pipe. If a vehicle approaches the gate too fast or fails to stop he slams his pipe down on their hood. Then once the gate is lifted the vehicle moves on the 2nd gate where the US Army MP’s are. So he’s like the first line of defense.

Last Thursday at 0930 hrs a Toyota Corolla packed with explosives and some Jack Ass that thinks he has 72 Virgins waiting for him approached the gate. When he saw Rambo he must have recognized him and known the gig was up. But he needed to get to that 2nd gate to detonate and take American lives. So he slams his foot on the gas which almost causes the metal gate to go up but mostly catches on the now broken windshield.

Rambo fearlessly ran to the vehicle, reached thru the window and jerked the suicide bomber out of the vehicle before he could detonate and commenced to putting some red pipe to his heathen ass. He detained the guy until the MP got there.

Go read it. It won’t take long, and it’s worth your time.

I’m not sure what’s more annoying, the color choices of the new iPod Shuffle or the annoying way Apple waits until everyone buys one kind of something before they give you any sort of choice.  Are there really that many people with that much expendable income going, “Ooooh, new shiny thing!” and buying said shiny the moment it hits the shelves?  How many teenagers got a plain shuffle for Christmas and are looking to their birthday for a NEW one in color? It can’t be worth it to tease like this constantly. Can it?

In other tech news…something called Vista(?) became available today. If you’re anything like us, you’ll think about it only when you’re ready to buy a new computer.  The last time I ran out and bought a new OS from Microsoft was Windows 3.0 and I can’t tell you what a freaking nightmare THAT was. 

I’m not all that excited about Office 07 either.  What more can it do?  I’ve not seen anything all that exciting in Office since 97. 

I didn’t grow up in a military family, at least not active-duty military. But we were replete with veterans. Dad fought in Korea with the Marines, his dad was with the Army in WWI. Dad’s older brother was in the Merchant Marines. Both of Dad’s younger brothers served at least one tour with the Marines, and Mom’s great-grandpa served with the Ohio Infantry in the 1860s. Come to think of it, Mom’s baby sister joined the Air Force after she graduated high school, in the early 1950s. My brother joined the Marines in 1973 to avoid being drafted, but got a medical discharge before ever completing boot camp. The military was seen as a valid career option, a respectable choice, as well as a place to grow up. We saw it as a rung on the ladder of success, a starting point from which one could reach the moon, if one so desired.

I enlisted in the military twice - the Army National Guard while I was in college, and the Air Force after I graduated. Total time in service was just shy of 12 years, I think. Both times I joined for basically the same reasons - I didn’t see any other clear options for my life, and I wanted to serve my country. And both times, I would say the former reason carried more weight than the latter, but that doesn’t negate the desire to serve. And my time in the military, and the experiences I had there, crystallized and solidified my love of country, and strengthened my belief that while the U.S. isn’t perfect, it’s a damn good country.
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Nineteen Cubans sail to Key West in home-made boat

They used fiberglass, aluminum irrigation pipes (flattened) and a 4-cylinder Peugeot motor, spent 25 hours on the ocean, and landed safely on Key West at or around 530am January 25.

Twelve men, five women, and 2 children. Upon arrival, after being given showers and meals, their first real questions were about how soon they could find work.

The link in the first sentence is to a news article about their arrival. Val Prieto blogged about it over at Babalu Blog, complete with photos of the home-made boat, which looks remarkably like an old row-boat that I would be afraid to take onto a smooth pond (full disclosure- I’m not any kind of sailor, nor a strong swimmer).

Val quotes a correspondence from a friend of his, who was present at the time. An excerpt:

We provided them with soap, towels, chairs, and washed their clothes. The local police showed up with Cuban bread and coffee, and toys for the children.

The rafters were overjoyed! They wanted to know how long before they could get a job and were jittery with excitement at the world opened before them. Some of them reported that living under a system where you fear the police and the state 24 hours a day is not living, and to not be able to enjoy the fruit of your own labor is the worst form of slavery.

They were on the water only 25 hours. They gathered their money and resources and built an incredibly well-crafted boat out of flattened irrigation aluminum pipes, Fiberglas and a four-cylinder Peugeot motor. They had tried to depart twice before but experienced mechanical problems. On this occasion the motor worked like a charm.

One of the ladies in the group reported that she had been arrested by the police several days prior under suspicion of participating in the organization of an illegal departure from the country. She kept her composure and denied everything. Since they could not find any evidence, they released her. That night, all 19 of them got back on the boat again and left.

They stated that they are now and forever a single family of 19. They enjoyed taking pictures with the boat and the various officers that were in the area.

Welcome home, freedom-seekers, until your own homeland is safe for you again.

h/t: Val Prieto

p.s. If y’all have never read Val’s blog, you need to. He writes with an eloquence that puts most of us to shame.

They say that NCOs aren’t happy unless we’re bitching.  This guy over at Blackfive is absolutely ecstatic!!

 Things that I am tired of in this war:

I am tired of Democrats saying they are patriotic and then insulting my commander in chief and the way he goes about his job.

I am tired of Democrats who tell me they support me, the soldier on the ground, and then tell me the best plan to win this war is with a “phased redeployment” (liberal-speak for retreat) out of the combat zone to someplace like Okinawa.

I am tired of the Democrats whining for months on T.V., in the New York Times, and in the House and Senate that we need more troops to win the war in Iraq, and then when my Commander in Chief plans to do just that, they say that is the wrong plan, it won’t work, and we need a “new direction.”

I am tired of every Battalion Sergeant Major and Command Sergeant Major I see over here being more concerned about whether or not I am wearing my uniform in the “spot on,” most garrison-like manner; instead of asking me whether or not I am getting the equipment I need to win the fight, the support I need from my chain of command, or if the chow tastes good.

I am tired of junior and senior officers continually doubting the technical expertise of junior enlisted soldiers who are trained far better to do the jobs they are trained for than these officers believe.

I am tired of senior officers and commanders who fight this war with more of an eye on the media than on the enemy, who desperately needs killing.

I am tired of the decisions of Sergeants and Privates made in the heat of battle being scrutinized by lawyers who were not there and will never really know the state of mind of the young soldiers who were there and what is asked of them in order to survive.

I am tired of CNN claiming that they are showing “news,” with videotape sent to them by terrorists, of my comrades being shot at by snipers, but refusing to show what happens when we build a school, pave a road, hand out food and water to children, or open a water treatment plant.

I am tired of following the enemy with drones that have cameras, and then dropping bombs that sometimes kill civilians; because we could do a better job of killing the right people by sending a man with a high powered rifle instead.

I am tired of Democrats who tell me they support me, the soldier on the ground, and then tell me the best plan to win this war is with a “phased redeployment” (liberal-speak for retreat) out of the combat zone to someplace like Okinawa.

I am tired of the Democrats whining for months on T.V., in the New York Times, and in the House and Senate that we need more troops to win the war in Iraq, and then when my Commander in Chief plans to do just that, they say that is the wrong plan, it won’t work, and we need a “new direction.”

I am tired of every Battalion Sergeant Major and Command Sergeant Major I see over here being more concerned about whether or not I am wearing my uniform in the “spot on,” most garrison-like manner; instead of asking me whether or not I am getting the equipment I need to win the fight, the support I need from my chain of command, or if the chow tastes good.

I am tired of junior and senior officers continually doubting the technical expertise of junior enlisted soldiers who are trained far better to do the jobs they are trained for than these officers believe.

I am tired of senior officers and commanders who fight this war with more of an eye on the media than on the enemy, who desperately needs killing.

I am tired of the decisions of Sergeants and Privates made in the heat of battle being scrutinized by lawyers who were not there and will never really know the state of mind of the young soldiers who were there and what is asked of them in order to survive.

And there you have a good chunk of what’s wrong with the Global War on Terror.  When I first heard that we were “starting” to target Iranians causing shit in Iraq my first thought was, “Are you fucking shitting me?!!!”  We’re just STARTING to mess with these motherfuckers? 

I swear to Christ I need to either stop reading the news or start drinking heavily.

In his one-volume history of Texas “Lone Star”, T.R.. Fehrenbach cites one particular reason for Texas having such a distinctive culture relative to the other states. And there is a distinctly different “feel” to living here; of all the places in the States where I have lived or visited; only Utah and Hawaii came even close to it, for similar reasons. Hawaii is an island, and was once itself an independent kingdom. So was Utah, metaphorically speaking: an island of Mormon separatists in empty vastness of the Great Basin. They are still generic American places, although one has frangipani and fabulous beaches, and the other has spectacular mountains and religious conformity.

Texas is more of a reduced and concentrated American essence; a demi-glace as it were. Like Utah and Hawaii, Texas started as independent political entity and did experience a certain degree of isolation, especially in the early years of settlement by Spanish, Mexican and American arrivals, but Fehrenbach cites one more reason; that Texas was at war for a good fifty years.

This war was fought mainly on one front (occasionally varying the program with other hostile factions), and a bitter and protracted fight it was too, beginning with the early days of Stephen Austin’s colony in the 1820ies. It had something of inevitability about it, for it was fought mostly against the Comanche Indian tribes; only in the early days of the American colonies east of the Appalachians s had there been a war as prolonged and vicious. In most of the other territories later become states, either the Indians were not particularly warlike, settlements were sparse and easily defended— leaving the resident Indians to withdraw to the back country— or such conflict between settlers and tribes was briskly concluded within a few years and to the settler’s decided advantage. But in Texas, war with the Indians lasted until the last ragged band surrendered to the reservation life in 1875; a period of fifty years during which no settler ever felt entirely secure, even in the center of what were larger towns at the time.

There was a dreadful inevitability in the collision of restless Anglo-American borderers, many of them that contentious Scots-Irish breed of whom it is usually said that they were born fighting, with the Comanche. But the Anglo-Texan borderers occasionally took a break from fighting; to farm, or ranch, to plant cotton or practice some more peaceful trade; the Comanche never did. For the Comanche lived entirely by war, by ransom and plunder—especially for horses, which they valued over practically anything else. They were restless and ever-moving, accustomed to hardship, feared by other tribes, whom they pushed out of the way, taking what they wanted, when they wanted it. There was no other occupation; no other means of advancement save by being a fearless warrior and raider. Such a harsh life eliminated the unfit brutally, as brutally as they eliminated their own enemies. At the high noon-time of their peak, they were the lords of the harsh and beautiful country of the southern plains, from the Arkansas River, to the Balcones Escarpment. They ranged and raided as far as they pleased, occasionally interrupted by a fragile peace treaty.

One of these treaties came to a spectacularly violent end, in the middle of San Antonio in the spring of 1840, during the course of what had been intended as a peace conference. In token of their good faith, a contingent of Penateka Comanche chiefs were supposed to surrender a number of captives, and sign a treaty. They turned over only a few, one of them a teenaged girl who had been savagely abused during a year of captivity. She told the Texan officials that the Comanche held more than a dozen other captives, but intended to extort a large ransom for each, one by one. When the chiefs and the peace commissioners met in a large building known as the Council House, the commissioners asked after the other captives who whose release had been promised. The leader of the chiefs — who had promised to bring in all the captives— answered that they had brought in the only one they had. The others were with other tribes. And then he added, insolently, “How do you like that answer?”

The short answer was the Texans did not. There were already soldiers standing by: they were ordered to surround the Council House, and the chiefs informed that they would be held hostage until their warriors returned to their camps and brought back the rest of the hostages. Almost as one, the chiefs drew knives and rushed the soldiers guarding the doors. The fat was then in the fire, as the warriors who were waiting outside in the yard entered the fray, and a short and vicious running fight erupted in the street leading down to the San Antonio River. The Council House fight vigorously re-ignited the war between Comanche and Texan, when a huge Comanche war party came down from the hills in the fall, sweeping down the empty country between the Guadalupe and Lavaca Rivers. They terrorized the town of Victoria and burned Linnville on Lavaca Bay. The citizens of Linnville watched from the refuge of boats offshore, as the Indians looted the warehouses and homes. They departed, with two hundred horses all laden with plunder, but what happened on the return from that spectacular raid set in motion a gathering of forces and personalities who would eventually reduce the proud lords of the Southern Plains to a handful of desperate, starving beggars.

(to be continued)

To: Various
From: Sgt Mom
Re: Response to Various Recent Events:

1. To: Major Legacy Media – Cease pussyfooting around and anoint the Chosen One… that is, the favored Democratic presidential nominee. Try to give the blogosphere a more substantial chew-toy than last time.

2. To Major Legacy Media – additional note. Keep in mind that anyone who has been in politics for longer than the last five minutes has “form”; that is, an established record of votes, speeches, interview, op-eds and appearances on the Sunday morning wank-fests. Contradictions, misstatements and mis-handled jokes will be noted by the blogosphere with every evidence of keen enjoyment. Take notes, try and keep up.

3. To Reuters and the AP news services: I already turn the page, as soon as I see that credit line at the top of the story. I am beginning to think a lot of other people are doing the same.

4. To President Ahmedinajad of Iran; So, punk, how lucky do you really feel?

5. To: Jewish residents of Western Europe, and those few Christian residents left in the Middle East; one word. Emigration

6. To: Those who feel moved by anti-war passions to expend bodily fluids in the general direction of uniformed military personnel; word to the wise. Our toleration of that s**t ran out approximately thirty years ago. The same goes also for businesses whose employees get snippy with military customers for the same reason.

7. To: The Council on Islamic American Relations; We have not noted Hollywood churning out vast quantities of anti-Islamic propaganda, in order to whip up the feelings of us ignorant proles. In fact, quite the reverse. But we have noted that whenever there is an uptick in car-bombs, beheadings, riots, mob violence, hostage-taking and assorted other anti-social activities in the news, the odds are very good that that a guy named Mohammed has been involved one way or another. Good luck with trying to erase this association in our minds.

8. To Ms. Jane Fonda – Please, if you are so damned keen to reprise the glory days of the 1960ies, confine yourself to doing a remake of Barbarella. Please.

Sincerely,
Sgt Mom

Really?  You think someone here at TDB would be interested in a Windows Vista Crack? 

If you could get me a sneak peak at Leopard we might be able to work something out, but I’m not touching Vista for at least a year or two so you’re wasting your time and mine.

Over at The Strategy Page.

1-No Weapons of Mass Destruction (WMD).

2-The 2003 Invasion was Illegal.

3-Sanctions were working.

And it goes on and on with more explanations.

Yes, I know things are not “rosey” over there.  However, strategic problems do not validate all the other rantings.

Via Dan Collins at Protein Wisdom.

As promised, a snipped from my current obsession, which is growing by leaps and bounds. As reader Andrew Brooks suggested “Rather then bemoan two novels of the Germans in the Texas hill country, let them rip and just think of it as TheChronicles of Barsetshire, but with cypress trees!”

From the epic tenatively known as “Adelsverein”, this is Chapter 8, “The Home Place”

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It’s been kind of a frenetic waltz this week… which is a round-about way of explaining why I didn’t write much original stuff this week. I just got obsessed with the new book; yeah, this one has taken hold, and when I’m on a roll, I’m on a roll, and nothing else seems quite real, or very important.

See, the first book… well, it was actually the second book, if you count the memoir which you really can’t because that was all basically little scraps of reminiscence stitched together… the first book was pretty easy to write. I sat down and wrote the first draft in a pell-mell rush, all over the space of about two months. The plot was pretty much already there, from start to finish; being based upon real people and real events has the effect of handing me the hardest part on a silver platter already. All I had to do was flesh them out a little, do a little guessing as to how they might have related to each other, come up with some amusing conversation, and a lot of description… hey presto, there you go. 120,000 well-polished and carefully chosen words. As a celebrated wit whose name I can’t remember at the moment was supposed to have said, “It’s easy, just open a vein, and let it flow.”

It actually was easy, because I was able to think about them for a long time, before I actually buckled down and did the writing…. For me, that’s what I need to do about half the time; to work out in my head what needs to happen, and how to go about making it happen. Sometimes I need to bounce ideas off other people: believe me, that kind of feedback is above price. It’s were the best ideas develop. And sometimes the magic is happening. I sit down at the computer and stuff just happens. I cope up for air, and there’s half a chapter written, and it’s pure gold, and it’s already four in the afternoon, and where the hell did the time go?
Anyway, the last book was something I lived with for a long time, before I actually buckled down and put it all on paper.

(It’s still in front of a publisher, by the way … and there are two more I will submit it to, in case of rejection. (Have to wait and do it sequentially, these people are anal about simultaneous submissions!) As my writer friend on the West Coast says, trying to find a publisher for a novel is kind of like trying to find adoptive parents for a minority Down ’s syndrome child: they are out there, but it takes a bit of looking.)

The new book; now, the one about the German colonies in the Texas Hill Country? I have built the scaffolding of plot and character for that from scratch… although there are some real people in it, some of who are very interesting people in their own right and who will take over, if I don’t keep a firm grip on them… (You… sit down, and behave, this story is not about you!)
What is really curious to me is how many of the fictional people, and the plot events just seemed to spring up from something I read in the course of doing research. A sentence here, a paragraph there, even just a single name… and a whole character is launched, obstreperous, amusing, and fully alive to me. There were incidents and events that I just kept circling back around towards, without knowing quite why: I just had the sense that they would have something important to do with the story. I had to set them aside like pieces for a mosaic, and figure out how to fit them all together later. There are also some characters who start out in the plot as a sort of extra, with one or two lines, but one way and another they turn out to be a little more important and before you know it, there is a fully functional and almost essential sub-plot… when all I had really needed was… you know, like two lines! It may take a lot longer to work through the first draft, then sit down and expand, edit and polish to a high shine. I’m guessing six months, at least, especially if I have to take (bleah) more paid outside work!

At this rate of proliferation, there just might be two books in this epic: the first one to cover the immigration, the building of the settlements, and the peace treaty with the Comanche, and the second to cover the Civil War and aftermath. There is no end of incident to cover, not to mention operatic levels of drama, murder, revenge, stolen children, madness, true love, sudden death… all this and civil war, too. And maybe a cattle stampede, just to vary the program. Just by way of a tease, I think I shall post a sample chapter…. (Suggestions and feedback are welcome, always. And any introductions to a literary agent will be extremely welcome, being that the big publishers are closed to me, unless I have one… and they are even harder to find!)

Later: Entry deleted and re-entered, in order to allow comments. Something about punctuation in the title often screws these things us. Don’t know why - Sgt. Mom)

Received an email from Soldiers’ Angels.  Please cut and paste into your blogs.
“For me on the front lines, this support is absolutely critical. It shows that we are not forgotten or uncared for. They are essential to those they touch to keeping morale high in the deployed areas. Thank you Soldiers’ Angels!” SGT. Michael Kelley, USArmy in Iraq.

Pasadena, CA (PRWeb) January 26, 2007 — Very soon, as more of U.S. troops will be deployed, or redeployed, in the Global War on Terror, Soldiers’ Angels mission becomes even more critical. SA has never let the troops down, but now, more than ever, it needs help from Americans.

If you would like more information about this topic or to schedule an interview with Patti Patton-Bader, please call her at 615-676-0239.

If you want to submit a picture, send it to me. I’m kind of tired of finding them myself.  Keep them military related and remember, no branch or rank is sacred.  Also, please try to give me a link and/or credit.
Others:

OTB.

Wizbang.

(The following lifted from a message posted on a Yahoo group for military broadcasters: a collection of oddball factoids about World War II. I do know the one about the Koreans is true, as it was written up in one of Stephen Ambroses’ books about D-Day. All others, salt to taste and discuss amongst yourselves.)

1. The first German serviceman killed in WW2 was killed by the Japanese (China, 1937), the first American serviceman killed was killed by the Russians (Finland 1940), the highest ranking American killed was Lt. Gen. Lesley McNair, killed by the US Army Air Corps. . . . So much for allies.

2. The youngest US serviceman was 12 year old Calvin Graham, USN. He was wounded and given a Dishonorable Discharge for lying about his age. (His benefits were later restored by act of Congress.)

3. At the time of Pearl Harbor the top US Navy command was Called CINCUS (pronounced “sink us”), the shoulder patch of the US Army’s 45th Infantry division was the Swastika, and Hitler’s private train was named “Amerika.” All three were soon changed for PR purposes.

4. More US servicemen died in the Air Corps than the Marine Corps. While completing the required 30 missions your chance of being killed was 71%.

5. Generally speaking there was no such thing as an average fighter pilot.You were either an ace or a target. For instance Japanese ace Hiroyoshi Nishizawa shot down over 80 planes. He died while a passenger on a Cargo plane.

6. It was a common practice on fighter planes to load every 5th round with a tracer round to aid in aiming. This was a mistake. Tracers had different ballistics so (at long range) if your tracers were hitting the target 80% of your rounds were missing. Worse yet tracers instantly told your enemy he was under fire and from which direction. Worst of all was the practice of loading a string of tracers at the end of the belt to tell you that you were out of ammo. This was definitely not something you wanted to tell the enemy. Units that stopped using tracers saw their success rate nearly double and their loss rate go down.

YOU’VE GOT TO LOVE THIS ONE….

7. When allied armies reached the Rhine the first thing men did was pee in it. This was pretty universal from the lowest private to Winston Churchill (who made a big show of it) and Gen. Patton (who had himself photographed in the act), found the photo (hand tinted black and white).

8. German Me-264 bombers were capable of bombing New York City but it wasn’t worth the effort.

9. German submarine U-120 was sunk by a malfunctioning toilet.

10. Among the first “Germans” captured at Normandy were several Koreans. They had been forced to fight for the Japanese Army until they were captured by the Russians and forced to fight for the Russian Army until they were captured by the Germans and forced to fight for the German Army until they were captured by the US Army.

AND I SAVED THE BEST FOR LAST….

11. Following a massive naval bombardment 35,000 US and Canadian troops stormed ashore at Kiska, in the Aleutian Islands. 21 troops were killed in the firefight. It would have been worse if there had been any Japanese on the island.

Another interesting essay, here. (Found courtesy of Rantburg, from whence cometh all sorts of odd tidbits and free-flowing springs of sarcasm)

Does it creep anyone else out that I have a cold and PJ Media is advertising Thera-Flu?

“Make This Go On Forever” by Snow Patrol is one of those songs that gets in your head and crawls around until you have to play it AGAIN just to turn it off…for awhile…and then it sneaks up again. Either that or the Alka Seltzer has better drugs than I thought.

Okay, how did Loggins and Messina sneak onto my “Alternative/Punk” playlist? Out of the iPod longhair!

OMFG! Therapy?! He’s going to therapy?!! What if the other guy was doing Joan Rivers impersonations and offering to do a fabulous wall treatment in his dressing room? Even other faggots would call him a faggot. I’m telling you, this PC bullshit is going to destroy us all. You watch, the next thing that will happen is that scientists who don’t accept Global Warming will be sent back to school for recertification.

I know, I can’t seem to leave this alone…it really bugs me. I’m not saying that people who use hate speech aren’t assholes, they are, but can we just write them off as assholes without turning it into some sort of mental illness? I use the word “faggot” and my gay friends slam me back with “breeder” or “butch boy” and we all know we’re joking. No big deals. If I were to lash out at one of them and drop the “f” bomb in a hateful way, I’d probably wind up apologizing for being an asshole…unless they were flaming out of control in an inappropriate time and place and then I’m sorry…all bets are off.

Of course…if I were more cynical…I might just think that in the current culture of “controversy IS advertising” that the whole thing was somehow…acted out…scripted…engineered behind the scenes as a way to give Grey’s Anatomy more advertising just as they’re changing nights…if I were more cynical.

This essay linked last week via Instapundit, and PJ Media, and no doubt others.
I anticipate the usual anti-nuclear war concerns to be out there in the streets protesting away, with paper-mache puppet heads and signs and all.

Not.

The past, of course. Near distant and far distant… and more alive than you would think, here.
(Check out the other links for other color photo archives. Courtesy of Photon Courier, and company.)

So I did a half day of work yesterday and I’m going to try and do the same today. It’s not easy, my head is just a huge, snot filled balloon that feels like it’s going to go at any. freaking. minute. And I’ve got to write an EPR because my troop is in Africa and can’t/won’t give me anything resembling a decent bullet. He must have done something. Everytime I went to his desk it was filled with piles of stuff that moved and changed shape. Something productive must have been happening. Right?

Alka Seltzer Cold is pretty cool stuff though. It kicks in almost immediately after you take it. You just have to remember to take it every four hours and…well…when I’m sick, I have no short term memory.

What I wouldn’t give for a decent 12 hour cold tab. It’s hard though because you HAVE to go off base to get any good drugs anymore, and then you can only get about 2 days worth otherwise you’ve got the cops coming to your house looking for a freaking Meth Lab. And who wants to have a warrant served as they’re waiting for their head to explode?…been there…done that.

I wonder what other sort of fun the single moms in the office are going to bring in from the infecteous disease lab child care center. What’s that, SrA Snuffly is on quarters with Pink Eye? Frelling lovely.

They emailed me, the least I can do is put the link up:

ATLAS EXPOSE: ISLAMIC CHARITY SHAM!

But NISA, the North American Islamic Shelter for the Abused, doesn’t exist. After exhaustive investigative efforts, we find NISA is a shell. A cellphone. An 888 number that is not answered but several cell phones.The Islamic shelter for abused women (wife beating, btw, is in the Koran) has no shelter and offers no services other than referral to government shelters.

Using battered women to raise funds for what nefarious purpose? What exactly are they raising money for? In an ATLAS EXCLUSIVE, covert Atlas operative Julie blew the lid right off what appears to be a bogus Islamic charity. Julie has extensive experience in this field. Her husband is a Muslim and has written numerous books and articles exposing the jihad worldwide.

Kind of over the top, but still a good story.

Is anyone really surprised that an Islamic Woman’s Shelter isn’t for real? It’s kind of an oxymoron.