Memorial Day

Some veterans bear visible signs of their service: a missing limb, a jagged scar, a certain look in the eye.

Others may carry the evidence inside them: a pin holding a bone together, a piece of shrapnel in the leg or perhaps another sort of inner steel: the soul's alloy forged in the refinery of adversity.

Except in parades, however, the men and women who have kept America safe wear no badge or emblem.

You can't tell a vet just by looking.

What is a vet?

He is the cop on the beat who spent six months in Saudi Arabia sweating two gallons a day making sure the armored personnel carriers did not run out of fuel.

He is the barroom loudmouth, dumber than five wooden planks, whose overgrown frat-boy behavior is outweighed a hundred times in the cosmic scales by four hours of exquisite bravery near the 38th parallel.

She or he is the nurse who fought against futility and went to sleep sobbing every night for two solid years in Da Nang.

He is the POW who went away one person and came back another or did not come back at all.

He is the Parris Island Drill Instructor who has never seen combat but has saved countless lives by turning slouchy, no-account rednecks and gang members into Marines, and teaching them to watch each other's backs.

He is the carrier pilot landing on a rolling, pitching, heaving flight deck during a rain squall in the pitch-black night of the Tonkin Gulf.

He is the parade-riding Legionnaire who pins on his ribbons and medals with a prosthetic hand.

He is the career quartermaster (Army Supply Corps) who watches the ribbons and medals pass him by.

He is the Army Ranger who scaled the cliffs at Normandy or who humps endless miles of burning sand for three days with no sleep or food and very little water to designate targets for laser guided bombs or swims through a disease infested swamp and crawls over poisonous snakes under the cover of darkness to conduct intelligence on a foreign government hostile to our own and our cherished way of life.

He is the three anonymous heroes in The Tomb of the Unknowns, whose presence at the Arlington National Cemetery must forever preserve the memory of all the anonymous heroes whose valor dies unrecognized with them on the battlefield or in the ocean's deep.

He is the old guy bagging groceries at the supermarket palsied now and aggravatingly slow who helped liberate a Nazi death comp and who wishes all day long that his wife were still alive to hold him when the nightmares come.

He is an ordinary and yet an extraordinary human being, a person who offered some of his life's most vital years in the service of his country, and who sacrificed his ambitions so others would not have to sacrifice theirs.

He is soldier, airman, sailor or Marine with a sword against the darkness, and he is nothing more than the finest, greatest testimony on behalf of the finest, greatest nation ever known.

He or she, are the sailors of the aircraft carriers who averaged 19 years of age, and the skilled pilots who flew from and landed on a pitching deck.

He is the sailor who spent six (6) months under the water in a submarine with no phone calls and no letters from home.

He is the soldier or Marine who went from firefight to firefight in Iraq, fighting the enemy, the sandstorms, the snakes and spiders, without the luxury of a shower for a month.

He or she are those who made the supreme sacrifice who we remember this day.

So remember, each time you see someone who has served our country, just lean over and say Thank You. That's all most people need, and in most cases it will mean more than any medals they could have been awarded or were awarded.


Two little words that mean a lot, "THANK YOU."




Monty

10 reasons not to kill Bush

By Jennifer McBride

Oregon Daily Emerald (U. Oregon) 05/25/2005

(U-WIRE) EUGENE, Ore. -- Recently in Georgia, the president gave a speech only to have someone chuck a hand grenade at him. Lucky for all, the blast cap did not explode. Though originally thought to be a dud, the FBI later revealed the weapon was far from safe.

I can't possibly guess the assassin's reasoning, but I've heard enough people on campus proclaiming their hatred of George W. Bush to know that some wouldn't have shed many tears. And that's a shame.

If the assassin were looking for a way to hurt America, blowing up the president would be a good idea. Bush's martyrdom would put the last nail in the coffin of the liberal agenda. So, for those Bush-haters out there, here are 10 reasons you should stop praying for an assassinated G.W.B.:

1) Killing the president immediately generates sympathy for his cause. If the president died tomorrow, there would be no question that all of his nominees for the judicial branch would make it through the Senate.

2) A dead President Bush leaves a live Dick Cheney in charge. Need I say more?

3) The Pakistani political situation is drastically fragile. Should President Bush die, Musharraf's brutal, mostly secular dictatorship probably will be replaced by a brutal, religiously fundamental dictatorship, reducing the United States' chances of bringing in Osama bin Laden to nil.

4) Any criticisms of the administration will be regarded as more unpatriotic than ever. In the next election, you could expect to see Democratic primary candidates proclaiming that their Republican counterparts aren't "fit to follow in President Bush's footsteps."

5) Killing President Bush could spur another spate of international invasions, with or without U.N. approval. The U.S. military cannot deal with invading another country without further hollowing our ability to defend ourselves and respond to threats from other countries, such as a nuclear North Korea.

6) The news cycle would be justly co-opted. With the media so focused on one story, there wouldn't be time to examine important issues such as the government suppression in Uzbekistan or Egyptian election tampering. In fact, all foreign news that didn't directly affect the assassination would probably grind to a halt.

7) President Bush's status as a martyr would leave the electorate more polarized than ever, especially if liberals were seen as publicly irreverent to President Bush's memory. It would be a little different if natural selection decreed death-by-snacking, but toasting an assassin's success leaves a decidedly bitter taste in the national mouth.

8) Jeb Bush's popularity would skyrocket. He would undoubtedly win the Republican nomination and then the election in 2008. With the Supreme Court full of near-zombies, I would prefer a different man to pick the people who are going to strangle us with laws.

9) Killing George Bush won't end any of the policies people disagree with. An assassination would merely strengthen our resolve to stay the course in Iraq, keep troops in Saudi Arabia, support our Israeli allies, etc. Policies don't die just because the president does.

10) Slaying President Bush is simply immoral. Anyone who advocates purposefully killing someone defenseless (and a democratically elected leader, no less) is clearly value-challenged. I don't understand the logical contortions some people must go through to be anti-death penalty yet pro-assassination.

In all seriousness, I don't hate President Bush. I dislike a lot of his administration's choices, but I think he's a good man doing a difficult job. As a leader, you're always going to be hated. I am too often shocked by the vitriolic repulsion many people feel for our leader and America in general, especially because the loathing is often poorly informed. I've met people on this campus who see America as the worst human rights abuser in the world (unlike the angelic paradise of Cambodia) and people who sway liberal not because they actually know anything about issues but because it's popular.

Liberalism has to be more than a college fad or a collection of loudmouths whose idiotic comments stir headlines. The rabid dislike some people feel for a man they've never even met makes me ashamed to be a Democrat.

http://www.uwire.com/content/topops052505002.html



Monty

The Race

A woman was having a daytime affair while her husband was at work. One wet and lusty day she was in bed with her boyfriend when, to her horror, she heard her husband's car pull into the driveway.

"Oh my God - Hurry! Grab your clothes and jump out the window. My husband's home early!"

"I can't jump out the window ~ It's raining out there!"

"If my husband catches us in here, he'll kill us both!" she replied. He's got a hot temper and a gun, so the rain is the least of your problems!" So the boyfriend scoots out of bed, grabs his clothes and jumps out the window!

As he ran down the street in the pouring rain, he quickly discovered he had run right into the middle of the town's annual marathon, so he started running along beside the others, about 300 of them.

Being naked, with his clothes tucked under his arm, he tried to blend in as best he could. After a little while a small group of runners who had been watching him with some curiosity, jogged closer.

"Do you always run in the nude?" one asked.

"Oh yes!" he replied, gasping in air. "It feels so wonderfully free!"

Another runner moved a long side. "Do you always run carrying your clothes with you under your arm?"

"Oh , yes" our friend answered breathlessly. "That way I can get dressed right at the end of the run and get in my car to go home!

Then a third runner cast his eyes a little lower and queried, "Do you always wear a condom when you run?"

"Nope.........just when it's raining"



Monty

You Might be a Redneck If . . . the positive side

You Might be a Redneck If …

It never occurred to you to be offended by the phrase,
“One nation, under God. . . “

You’ve never protested about seeing the 10 Commandments posted in public places.

You might still say Christmas, instead of “Winter Festival”.

You bow your head when someone prays.

You stand and place your hand over your heart when they play the National Anthem.

You treat military vets with great respect, and always have.

You’ve never burned your National flag.

You know what you believe and you aren’t afraid to say so, no matter who is listening.

You respect your elders and expect your kids to do the same.

You’d give your last dollar to a friend.



Monty

Know Your States

Alabama : Hell Yes, We Have Electricity

Alaska : 11,623 Eskimos Can't Be Wrong!

Arizona : But It's A Dry Heat

Arkansas: Literacy Ain't Everything

California : By 30, Our Women Have More Plastic Than Your Honda

Colorado : If You Don't Ski, Don't Bother

Connecticut : Like Massachusetts, Only The Kennedy's Don't Own It yet

Delaware : We Really Do Like The Chemicals In Our Water

Florida : ASK US ABOUT OUR GRANDKIDS!

Georgia : We Put The "Fun" In Fundamentalist Extremism

Hawaii : Haka Tiki Mou Sha'ami Leeki Toru (Death To Mainland Scum, Leave Your Money)

Idaho : More Than Just Potatoes...Well, Okay, We're Not, But The Potatoes Sure Are
Real Good

Illinois : Please Don't Pronounce the "S"

Indiana : 2 Billion Years Tidal Wave Free

Iowa : We Do Amazing Things With Corn

Kansas : First Of The Rectangle States

Kentucky : Five Million People; Fifteen Last Names

Louisiana: We're Not ALL Drunk Cajun Wackos, But That's Our Tourism Campaign

Maine: We're Really Cold, But We Have Cheap Lobster

Maryland : If You Can Dream It, We Can Tax It

Massachusetts : Our Taxes Are Lower Than Sweden's (For Most Tax Brackets)

Michigan : First Line Of Defense From The Canadians

Minnesota : 10,000 Lakes...And 10,000,000,000,000 Mosquitoes

Mississippi : Come And Feel Better About Your Own State

Missouri : Your Federal Flood Relief Tax Dollars At Work

Montana : Land Of The Big Sky, The Unabomber, Right-wing Crazies, and Very Little
Else

Nebraska : Ask About Our State Motto Contest

Nevada : Hookers and Poker!

New Hampshire : Go Away And Leave Us Alone

New Jersey : You Want A ##$%##! Motto?I Got Yer ##$%##! Motto Right here!

New Mexico : Lizards Make Excellent Pets

New York : You Have The Right To Remain Silent, You Have The Right To An Attorney...

North Carolina : Tobacco Is A Vegetable

North Dakota : We Really Are One Of The 50 States!

Ohio: At Least We're Not Michigan

Oklahoma : Like The Play, Only No Singing

Oregon : Spotted Owl...It's What's For Dinner

Pennsylvania : Cook With Coal

Rhode Island: We're Not REALLY An Island

South Carolina : Remember The Civil War? We Didn't Actually Surrender

South Dakota : Closer Than North Dakota

Tennessee : The Educashun State

Texas : Sí, Hablo Ingles

Utah : Our Jesus Is Better Than Your Jesus

Vermont : Yep

Virginia : Who Says Government Stiffs And Slackjaw Yokels Don't Mix?

Washington : We have more rain than you do

Washington , D.C. : Wanna Be Mayor?

West Virginia : One Big Happy Family...Really!

Wisconsin : Come Cut The Cheese

Wyoming : Where Men Are Men...And The Sheep Are Scared



Monty

Labor Pains.....

A married couple went to the hospital to have their baby delivered.

Upon their arrival, the doctor said he had invented a new machine that would transfer a portion of the mother's labor pain to the father. He asked if they were willing to try it out.

They were both very much in favor of it.

The doctor set the pain transfer to 10% for starters, explaining that even 10% was probably more pain than the father had ever experienced before. But as the labor progressed, the husband felt fine and asked the doctor to go ahead and kick it up a notch.

The doctor then adjusted the machine to 20% pain transfer. The husband was still feeling fine. The doctor checked the husband's blood pressure and was amazed at how well he was doing.

At this point they decided to try for 50%. The husband continued to feel quite well.

Since the pain transfer was obviously helping out the wife considerably, the husband encouraged the doctor to transfer ALL the pain to him.

The wife delivered a healthy baby with virtually no pain. She and her husband were ecstatic.

When they got home, the mailman was dead on the porch.




Monty