No, I won’t be watching. No, I won’t be giving you a play-by-play. Frankly, it’s because I like my sanity – what little is left of it – and because tonight’s topic is national security, I’d also like to not be fighting the urge to put a fist through my TV for 90 minutes. As a matter of fact, there’s a ton of things I’d rather be doing than watching the debate, so here’s a partial list.
- Root canal. I love root canals.
- Playing with raw meat inside an alligator enclosure in Florida.
- Drinking antifreeze (don’t worry I was a college student once – I’m sure I’ve ingested worse stuff).
- Being ravaged by a herd of hungry yak.
- Being torn apart by Walking Dead zombies.
- Tumbling into a gorilla enclosure.
- Listening to a fat acceptance lecture by Trigglypuff.
- Electric shock therapy.
- Prostate exam. Yes, I know I don’t have one. I don’t care.
- Reading Damien Walter columns.
- Giving Michael Moore a sponge bath.
- Shaving my bikini line with a rusty weed wacker.
- Sniffing Arthur Cho’s bicycle seat.
- Having dinner with cannibalistic pygmies.
- Bathing in my dog’s slobber.
- Giving my cat a bath.
- Memorizing the list of gender pronouns now recognized in New York.
- Two words: Clorox douche.
- Picking the lint from Mama June’s belly button.
- Gargling Axe body spray.
- Having my ovaries removed with a pair of salad tongs. By a blind veterinarian.
- Discussing Kierkegaard with an ADHD toddler.
- Expressing Tucker’s anal glands.
- Expressing ANYONE’S anal glands.
- Trying on Kanye’s new clothing line (yeah, the one that makes you look like you’re a concentration camp survivor).
- Having a Twitter conversation with Anthony Weiner.
- Smelling dog farts.
- Smelling husband farts after a night of cheap beer.
- Napping in a snake pit.
- Working as Kim Kardashian’s gynecologist.
- Reading the Torah at a KKK gathering.
- Using a porta-john at a Nickelback concert.
- Eating my own vomit.
- Drinking a kale, ketchup, and urine smoothie (giving antifreeze a run for its money).
- Picking gum off the bottom of a chair in my old high school and chewing it.
- Listening to Roseanne Barr “sing” the national anthem.
- Making out with Michael Jackson’s desiccated carcass.
- Having a rabid ferret chew on my crotch.
- Snorting hot sauce.
- Three words: hot tar enema.
Get the message?
I know I promised not to write about national politics, but the news is so weird, I had to mention it. Last night’s conversation went something like this…
Rob: Holy shit! The Richmond Times-Dispatch just endorsed Gary Johnson!
Rob: I’m not kidding! They just endorsed Gary!
Me: That’s a joke, right?
Rob: No, seriously.
Gary Johnson is a former, two-term governor of New Mexico and a man who built from scratch a construction company that eventually employed more than 1,000 people before he sold it in 1999. He possesses substantial executive experience in both the private and the public sectors.
More important, he’s a man of good integrity, apparently normal ego and sound ideas. Sadly, in the 2016 presidential contest, those essential qualities make him an anomaly — though they are the foundations for solid leadership and trustworthy character. (At 63, he is also the youngest candidate by more than half a decade — and is polling well among truly young voters.)
The Libertarian candidate is on the ballot in all 50 states.
To be sure, I don’t agree with him on many issues. His running mate is a particularly odious brand of leftard. But I also know Gary. We’ve met numerous times. He was largely responsible for my switching from the BlackBerry to the iPhone back in 2012 (not sure if Rob will ever forgive this transgression) by singing its praises and telling me that the BlackBerry was on its way out, and that he was shocked at how easy to use and versatile the iPhone was!
In other words, Gary is probably the most normal guy you will ever see on the national stage. Yes, he says dumb things sometimes. There are times he seems not to have thought his positions through. But the thing about Gary is that he listens. He learns. When you make your case to him, he honestly weighs what you have to say and researches it before deciding whether to change his mind on an issue or not. But he’s normal. He’s nice. He’s kind. He’s funny. And most of all, he’s genuine and willing to admit what he doesn’t know.
How rare is that?
But I’m not really here to talk about Gary, other than to confirm what the Richmond Times-Dispatch seems to have discovered this year – that he’s a viable candidate for the White House, especially given the complete fuckery that has been foisted on the two major parties by the establishment.
I’m here to marvel at just how horrible the two major parties have to be for a major Virginia newspaper to endorse a third-party candidate!
One candidate apparently didn’t realize she was a classification authority, and therefore didn’t understand that the (C) in front of each paragraph in her email meant “CONFIDENTIAL,” prompting everyone to wonder about her intelligence.
The other candidate went to a neighboring country with which we have a tight economic relationship, petted its corrupt president on the head and told him how fabulous his country was, came back to the United States, proceeded to screech that despite the fact his AWESOME, FANTASTIC, BEAUTIFUL WALL wasn’t discussed, our neighbor WAS going to pay for it, because everything is a negotiation. Meanwhile, a surrogate issued a “dire” warning that if the opponent won, there would be “taco trucks on every corner.”
Mmmmmmm…. tacos. Yum.
This is the type of choice America faces in 2016?
“I didn’t know what that little C in parentheses meant.” (Even though, I was a member of the national security team and a classification authority, and a number of State cables that bore my name were classified as (C))
Taco trucks on every corner!
Is it any wonder that a major Virginia newspaper chose to give the finger to both?
It shows one thing: the two major party candidates are the most odious, awful, unacceptable contenders for the highest office in the land we could have possibly gotten!
And the most ardent of their supporters – on both sides – are the most frothing idiotic hordes of ignorami ever created! (This excludes those who are dissatisfied with both choices, and are basically holding their noses.)
These are the people who twist and spin, and who hurl turds in the form of everything from ad hominems to death threats to those who oppose their political deity of choice.
Honestly, if this nation is to survive, it’s these morons we need to defeat!
There. I said it.
I’ve tried to keep away from Election 2016, generally. Yeah, I’ll take on certain issues important in this election, and will take candidates to task on said issues, but generally, this election is such a clown show, that I cannot stomach even writing about this insanely bad lot of candidates who can’t wait to wield their AUTHORITAH! over Americans!
When given the choice between a woman who was either too stupid to realize that she was sending classified information over an unsecure server, or outright lied about it, and a man who is completely ignorant about nearly everything and has no idea what he believes other than his dick is apparently satisfactory, as is the size of his orange little hands, I thought the Libertarian Party was a viable choice.
At least I wouldn’t need a shower in boiling Listerine after casting my vote, right?
The LP in all its retardery decided to pander to so-called “moderates” this year by nominating a gun-grabbing, Constitution-shredding, shriveled up nutsack as its Vice Presidential nominee.
Bill *spit* Weld.
Historically a gun grabbing asshole, who has as little respect for property rights as he does for the Second Amendment, has wormed his way onto the ballot, promising not to betray Libertarian ideals and swearing his views have evolved. Well, he betrayed that promise about five minutes after securing the nomination.
Here’s what this infected testicle had to say about gun rights.
Wants to deprive people of their right to keep and bear arms without due process? No problem.
Evil “assault” rifles? Check.
I was willing to put up with a lot from the LP this year, given the assclownery that has been the hallmark of the two major parties this year. Gary Johnson is far from perfect. Very inexperienced when it comes to national security and foreign policy, which is particularly important to me this year. But that said, I’ve met Gary, and I’ve spoken to him. He’s willing to listen and learn and even change his views if a good case is presented! I was willing to accept that.
But Weld? No way. If anything happens to Gary, this fetid yambag becomes POTUS?
If I want a statist in the White House, I’ll vote for one of the major party candidates.
So screw the LP, and screw Weld. I was willing to put up with a lot, but not this.
Looks like I’m writing in SMOD 2016.
The following post was written by the wife of an Army buddy of mine. These are her thoughts. These are her emotions.
These thoughts are not partisan in nature, nor are they impugning either of the repulsive characters involved in the Khan saga.
My friend is a Soldier. He was there when Humayun Khan sacrificed his life. He saw that sacrifice in raw and vivid detail. His wife says he’s been having a difficult time with all this. Every time he sees another exploitative story, according to her, he gets upset.
I haven’t said a word about the Democrats shameful use of this Gold Star family’s tragedy as a political tool in their convention. Nor have I said anything about Donald Trumps equally shameful subsequent attacks on the parents.
Both are equally repugnant, and I would urge every reader to put aside their hatred for either or both candidates, read these thoughts and consider where we are as a country. Is this the best we can be?
This post isn’t about what I feel. It is the voice of another – a voice that needs to be heard.
It’s an election year and the internet world is buzzing. People are snarling and growling at each other like so many monsters while hidden behind cyber veils of anonymity. Every action and every word of the candidates are being dissected, torn apart, and re-imagined to suit whatever agenda is being served.
It is an absolute muckraking mess. I customarily try to avoid these things and stay in my bubble so that I can enjoy my life.
Unfortunately, I have been shoved so far into the political toilet this week, that I am barely afloat. I find myself up, late at night, writing this because someone needs to address this issue.
No this has nothing to do with women’s rights, or my uterus, or gay rights, or transgender rights, or any of the hot button issues that you may think would concern a young woman. Instead it boils down to one simple fact – one simple moral principle that seems to have been lost on the media, the masses, and the political parties, in what can only be described as a feeding frenzy.
Capitalizing on the death of a soldier and the pain of his family for political gain is NOT OK.
I’m sure that you have all watched it. The parents of the late Army Captain Humayun Khan stood up at the Democratic National Convention and encouraged voters to vote Democrat, with Mrs. Khan standing strong next to her husband – a mother’s pain and anguish clear on her face. You heard the cheers as the camera panned out over a tearful, diverse and thoroughly patriotic audience who were fired up with the passion of purpose. It was all very heartwarming.
Except that it wasn’t heartwarming at all.
What you didn’t see were the Soldiers who served with Captain Khan as they struggled to cope.
What you didn’t see were their faces going pale as the memories re-emerged.
What you didn’t see was the anger when they realized that one of their own was being used posthumously as a prop to support a politician.
You didn’t see the rage when they realized the pain of Captain Khan’s parents was being exploited, or the abject disgust at the raging media circus that has ensued.
You haven’t seen their faces crumple with an abject sense of helplessness, as the name of a hero whom they hold in the highest regard has been dragged through the dirt by politicians and the media.
Please don’t misunderstand me, I am sure that Captain Khan’s parents really only spoke with the best of intentions. I’m positive that they never would have thought that the American media and the American public could be so heartless when speaking of their deceased son. What has been said and done in the name of politics is appalling. I hold the family of Captain Khan in the highest regard.
Now before you stop reading and think that I’m just being some preachy opinionated internet keyboard warrior, I should tell you how I arrived at my view of this fiasco.
On June 8, 2004 Captain Humayun Khan took a Humvee to the entrance of FOB Warhorse. He greeted the gate guards, made conversation with them, and stepped outside to address some locals. It was his day off, but he was at the gate that day when he should have been resting. I have been told that he was meeting with local Iraqis to help them form a neighborhood watch program. A scant few minutes later there was a loud explosion. The guards at the gate were blown into the Hesco barriers by the force of the blast. They suffered ruptured eardrums and a myriad of other injuries.
One of those guards who greeted Captain Khan shortly before he stepped outside the FOB for the last time is my husband.
That was the day that Captain Khan died while saving my husband’s life.
That was the day that a man I never met ensured my future by giving up his own.
There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think of him. Every time my daughter smiles, every time I hear my husband speak or crack a joke. Every single time we eat a family dinner or enjoy a movie Humayun Khan is there in the back of my mind.
Many of you saw a handsome young man’s face magnified on that screen. You saw the face of an American ideal, you saw the idea of a hero translated into a face.
I saw the face of a true warrior to whom I can never repay my debt. My husband saw the face of a brother in arms, a fellow soldier. He saw the face of a hero as well but he also saw the face of a human being and he remembered in vivid detail.
The general populace is detached. Many Americans only ever see neatly edited clips of war. For many war is a spectator sport. It is a glorious montage of patriotism and heroism that flashes across the screens of our televisions and our devices. Unfortunaly like most entertainments for the spectators it’s not real or solid in their minds.
Soldiers who serve don’t have that benefit; they get the full brutal reality. It is something that they live, see, hear, feel and smell. It is something that changes them. It is the memory that lurks and the bad dreams that torment. It is a never ending feeling and depository of memory.
For Captain Khan’s parents there are no words of gratitude that are appropriate and there are no words of sympathy powerful enough.
No one should ever have to be thanked for losing a child.
The question is where do we go from here? What’s done is done.
There is one thing we can do.
We can demand an apology from both the Democrats and the Republicans. We must remind the politicians that the stories of our honored dead are not theirs to use as they see fit. The valor of our heroes is not a commodity to be traded and capitalized on, and the pain of Gold Star family members is not and never should be a political crutch.
Our military families, Soldiers, veterans and our honored dead are the backbone of this nation. You shouldn’t have to be reminded to treat us with dignity and respect.
We are the citizens of a free nation founded by rebellious fathers. You will not tread on us.
My news feeds are overflowing with Melania Trump’s tits today. It’s a bit surreal, since I’m still a bit stoned on painkillers, so seeing her nude photos both by herself and with another nekkid chick is kind of making me feel funny – and not like climbing the rope in gym class funny, either. Just weird.
On one hand, a possible future First Lady being spanking material for horny teenage boys and half the military bases is pretty friggin’ inappropriate… and creepy.
Also, I’ll be honest here, the thought of her riding the two-inch hairy baloney pony and his post-coital smirk is making me nauseous enough to reach for the Zofran (the pills they gave me to prevent post-surgical nausea).
There’s a part of me that really wants to see some class in the White House, instead of the gold-accented, tacky, gold-toilet-seat-a-la-Saddam I have of a Trump presidency.
But at the same time, I just don’t care. She did what she did. She had a successful modeling career when she was young. Why should anyone give a damn?
Mostly, though, I don’t give a rat’s flying, rolling fuck because there are to worry about.
Like Trump’s lack of understanding about how NATO actually works.
Like his complete lack of knowledge and understanding about Putin’s actions in Crimea.
Like his idiotic campaign’s softening of the GOP platform on Ukraine.
Like his campaign manager’s seedy ties to former Ukrainian president and Putin crony Viktor Yanukovych.
Trade wars. Lack of understanding about economics and trade policy. The desire to force the military to target innocent family members of terrorists. The desire to deprive Americans of their Second Amendment rights without due process. Those issues concern me.
There are a lot of things to be concerned about with this candidate. Melania’s tits are not on that list, though.
Although the hypocrisy of promising to spend yet more government resources on a commission to examine the “harmful public health impact” of pornography is more than a little striking to me, I’ll admit. But overall, it’s just more big-government shit that makes this candidate even more unappealing.
And no, I’m not posting the photos. Use your Google-fu if you really want to see the tits.