Good Morning Campers,
Welcome to the Memorial Day weekend Blowout!
Just like we do every Memorial Day weekend, we have a huge mythical, magical, mundane (M3 or M cubed [we used to say 3M but we got into all kinds of trouble with logo rights and stuff with the actual 3M company so we stopped]) bar-b-que, party and orgy. All of you patrons have been sent an invitation with coordinates to your closest portal and the portal settings to arrive at the party.
I have to warn you. There are certain rules that MUST be followed when using the portal settings. Please pay close attention to the following:
· They can only be used once. (We will see to it that you can return to your home realm when you are ready to go.)
· They are keyed only to you! Not to say that you can’t bring someone with you, but anyone you bring will be tagged with your tracking information.
· Anyone you bring with you is YOUR responsibility. There are very few rules once you get here, but if someone you bring ends up being a bore, a liberal, a democrat or an outright ass (but I repeat myself) they will be harshly dealt with and it will reflect badly on you up to and including you in whatever punishments the council deems. (See the punishment section further down)
· If anyone tries to use your settings without you being there, they will be transported to a random location in the 666 realms. (and that is not six hundred and sixty-six that is six to the sixth power, and that raised to the sixth power ~ see Robert Heinlein’s Number of the Beast for more information on the realms) (It ends up being a number 1.03 with 39 more digits behind it. Looks something like this: 103,144,247,984,910,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 all of those zeroes are numbers of one kind or another, but honestly, who cares at this point. It’s about the same amount that our national debt will be by the time Obama leaves office.) (Okay, I looked it up… ahem… one hundred and three duodecillion, one hundred forty-four undecillion, two hundred forty-seven decillion, nine hundred, eighty-four nonillion, nine-hundred, ten octillion. We could round it off to a hundred duodecillion.) (Okay, I’m really done this time.)
· Return transportation is allowed at any time by anybody, but it is a one-way trip. If you just have to leave for something that is more important than this weekend (I can’t imagine what that might possibly be, but I assume in all the possibilities in the multi-realms there just might be a few things) then you MUST speak with a senior staff member to arrange a new code to use to return. I would definitely seek out a sober senior staff member otherwise you might not return to this destination. (see the fourth bullet for those possibilities)
· If one of your party members is banished and through some great excuse given to the council who buys it (see more about the council below) senior staff will NOT help you find that individual without substantial bribes or favors being paid.
· No. Before you even think of it, this is NOT a convenient way to get rid of an unwanted spouse, business partner or enemy. There are ways to tell and we will use them to determine the truth in the matter.
· Council…the council will be made up of 4 random party goers (and one senior staff in the case of ties, if needed) on a rotating basis. In the easiest way to explain it: If a council is needed, a special bell is rung on the empty council table which casts a spell and 4, randomly chosen party goers are teleported to the council table. Their level of sobriety and nakedness does not matter. You can imagine if a council is called against you and one of the members is engaged in the bacchanal (look it up) and is teleported say in mid thrust and appears at the council table, I’m not sure your case will be heard in the most dispassionate of minds.
· The council will hear the charges and make a decision of punishments. Or the punishment wheel can be spun and a random punishment can be given. The decision will also be made as to the punishment, if any, the person who brought the offender shall suffer.
· The decision of the council is final and the council members themselves, as well as the hosts, senior staff or any member of DL&LL Enterprises, will hold no liability, implied or otherwise in the outcome of the punishments.
· Punishments can include:
o Public humiliation of the council’s choosing
o Dancing with the Gorgon
o Matching drink for drink with Lethal Leprechaun
o Public duel to first blood or death (weapon choices can include anything from marshmallow guns to 30 mm cannons)
o Being the subject for the spell casting contest for the junior witches and wizards contest.
o Banishment to a random or specific realm
o Expulsion to leave the party
o Being Impish’s plaything for a set period of time, not to exceed the length of the party
o Being the Valkyries’ hunting target
o Then on the wheel there will be a couple of others not mentioned here, including at least one get out of jail free card
That’s the outline of the rules in a nutshell. So, really, other than pissing somebody off, espousing beliefs or practices that are unlikely to find favor amongst the guests, breaking the golden rule with any of the guests or just being an ass is about the only way you can really get yourself in trouble.
The problem is, that as soon as you add alcohol and people, silly things are going to happen.
Cheating at any of the games or contests will not get you in trouble… unless you are caught.
Some of the activities that haven’t been mentioned already include the volleyball tournaments, both nude and clothed. Several different games of chance and several forms of poker.
On Sunday night, we will all be magically transported to the National Memorial Day Concert in its many different locations. This is an annual concert and presentation, honoring our men and women in uniform that is put on every year. For more information, she the special breaking news portion later in the issue. For those of you who are not attending the Memorial Day blowout here at our facilities, you are HIGHLY urged to tune into it at home.
Lethal will be showing off some of the new facilities here at our new recreation center. The tour will take place on Monday in conjunction with his very special and always marvelous Memorial Day issue. I promise you, it will be a part of the weekend you will not want to miss!
There will be a Ken tournament for the fans of the School of Magic Series and a Quiditch tournament for the Harry Potter fans. I understand the younger ones will be entertained with capture the flag as in the Lightning Thief series and a One Ring hunt for the really little ones.
All of the children entertainment will be held in separate age appropriate areas with complete and total non-access to the adult area, so please don’t worry about your younger ones, I understand that Alice, Tick-Tock, and the Rabbit will be the leaders in the youngest children’s areas and appropriate age identifier supervisors will be available for the older children. I understand that Luke Skywalker and Obi-wan will be in attendance.
Parents will have free, unlimited passage from realm to realm to check on their children, but will be required to sign a non-aggression form for any punishments meted out to your lovely kidlets while in attendance.
As you may realize, this is the first time we’ve allowed minors to one of our functions and we’ve taken GREAT pains to give them both a safe and secure play area as well as positive role models as supervisors. We ask you to do your best to brief your children on your expectations (which hopefully match OUR expectations) for this to continue to be a great weekend event for the whole family. Please make your children understand that other creatures are not to be prejudiced against. Although, we’ve found that it’s not normally in a child’s nature to hold outward appearances against somebody (unless they are taught by parents at a very early age and then those are not usually the type of parents we have in attendance here anyway) but the adults whom we have problems with.
As I’m beginning to wax long in this opening, let me just say now:
Let the festivities begin!
Government Secrets? Hidden places? Global Conspiracies? Yup, we do that!
The religious cowboy lost his favorite Bible while he was mending fences out on the range.
Three weeks later a cow walked up to him carrying the Bible in its mouth.
The cowboy couldn’t believe his eyes. He took the precious book out of the cow’s mouth, raised his eyes heavenward and exclaimed, “It’s a miracle!”
“Not really,” said the cow. “Your name is written inside the cover.”
National Memorial Day Concert – An American Tradition Honoring Our Servicemen and Women
On the eve of Memorial Day, a star-studded lineup will grace the stage for one of PBS’ highest-rated programs. For over 25 years, this multiple-award-winning television event has honored the military service and sacrifice of all our men and women in uniform, their families at home, and those who have made the ultimate sacrifice for our country.
The 26th annual National Memorial Day Concert will feature uplifting musical performances, documentary footage, and dramatic readings that honor the military service of all our men and women in uniform, their families at home, and those who have made the ultimate sacrifice. One of PBS’ highest-rated programs, the multi-award-winning television event has become an American tradition, featuring a star-studded lineup performing in tribute to all Americans who have sacrificed for our country.
The program will be co-hosted for the tenth year by Tony Award winner Joe Mantegna and Emmy Award winner Gary Sinise, two acclaimed actors dedicated to supporting veterans and troops.
The concert’s mission is to unite the country in remembrance and appreciation of the fallen and to serve those who are grieving Executive Producer Jerry Colbert says, “We think of the agony of the mother or father who lost a child, the spouses and children left behind, the people who are wounded in body and soul. And we do this memorial service to remember and reach out to them. We must remember their sacrifices and continue the mission set forth by Abraham Lincoln to ‘care for him who shall have borne the battle, and for his widow, and his orphan.’”
On your local PBS Station Sunday May 24th 8 PM EST/7 PM CST/ 6 PM MST/ 5 PM PST
My husband is a liar and a cheat. He has cheated on me from the beginning, and, when I confront him, he denies everything. What’s worse, everyone knows that he cheats on me. It is so humiliating.
Also, since he lost his job 14 years ago, he hasn’t even looked for a new one. All he does all day is smoke cigars, cruise around and shoot the bull with his buddies, while I have to work to pay the bills.
Since our daughter went away to college, he doesn’t even pretend to like me, and even hints that I may be a lesbian.
What should I do?
(Scroll down) …..
Grow up and dump him. Good grief woman! You don’t need him anymore! You’re running for President of the United States.
Happens to me all the time! Lethal doesn’t like it that I burn so many, but how else am I supposed to stay safe?
A very “artsy” picture of me done just recently in my full on dragon form. I think I really look good in this one. Nice and mean!
I’m going to reveal a commonly known chapter of The Man Book. This is the book that all men get upon entering adulthood and we are expected to have with us for every monthly meeting. I know I may get in a little trouble for this at the next man meeting, but I think the overwhelming good it would do would be a much better pay off.
Life’s Demerit System
All married men will attest to some real wisdom in this chapter…
In the world of romance, one single rule applies:
MAKE THE WOMAN HAPPY!
Do something she likes, and you get points.
Do something she dislikes, and points are subtracted.
You don’t get any points for doing something she expects. Sorry, that’s the way the game is played. Here is a non-exhaustive guide to the point system:
You make the bed. (+1)
You make the bed, but forget the decorative pillows. (-10)
You throw the bedspread over rumpled sheets. (-3)
You go out to buy her what she wants (+5) in the rain (+8)
But return with Jack Daniels. (-5)
You check out a suspicious noise at night. (+1)
You check out a suspicious noise, and it is nothing. (0)
You check out a suspicious noise, and it is something. (+5)
You pummel it with an iron rod. (+10)
It’s her pet Schnauzer. (-20)
You stay by her side for the entire party. (+1)
You stay by her side for a while, then leave to chat with an old school friend. (-2)
Named Tina (-10)
Tina is a dancer. (-10)
Tina has breast implants. (-40)
You take her out to dinner. (+2)
You take her out to dinner, and it’s not a sports bar. (+3)
Okay, it’s a sports bar. (-2)
And its all-you-can-eat night. (-3)
It’s a sports bar, it’s all-you-can-eat night, and your face is painted the colors of your favorite team. (-10)
A NIGHT OUT
You take her to a movie. (+1)
You take her to a movie she likes. (+5)
You take her to a movie you hate. (+6)
You take her to a movie you like. (-2)
It’s called ‘Death Cop.’ (-3)
You lied and said it was a foreign film about orphans. (-15)
You develop a noticeable potbelly. (-15)
You develop a noticeable potbelly and exercise to get rid of it. (+10)
You develop a noticeable potbelly and resort to baggy jeans and baggy Hawaiian shirts. (-30)
You say, “It doesn’t matter, you have one too.” (-80)
THE BIG QUESTION
She asks, “Do I look fat?” (-5)
(Yes, you lose points no matter what)
You hesitate in responding. (-10)
You reply, “Where?” (-35)
You give any other response. (-20)
When she wants to talk about a problem, you listen, displaying what looks like a concerned expression. (+2)
You listen, for over 30 minutes (+50)
You listen for more than 30 minutes without looking at the TV. (+500)
She realizes this is because you have fallen asleep. (-4000)
Yup! Me too!
It is still very early in the festivities when the first council is called. You just happen to be near the council table when suddenly four people appear seated behind it. You don’t recognize any of them, but you do notice that two of them, a man and a woman, seem to be quickly adjusting their clothing. That could have been quite embarrassing ten minutes from now.
A teleprompter pops up in front of the first person to the left, as a camera rises up out of the ground, almost knocking you over, to record all the events. The man begins reading from the teleprompter:
“um. Ah .. okay, ahem. This is the first calling of the council. The council is officially in session, will the member accuser step forward and state his case.”
A man, dressed in what appears to be a very formal looking kilt and dress shirt, steps from the crowd that is forming and approaches the front of the table. “Aye, I pushed the damned button. This one.” He pulls another man from the crowd, who seems to have had his once quite neat suit and tie pulled from his top. He attempts to straighten his tie and shoots his cuffs and when he does, several playing cards fall out of the sleeve of his jacket.
The kilted man bends over and roars with laughter, “So, do ye think I need explain of his cheatin’ shenanigans at all? Seems to me he just proved it hisself!”
The crowd laughs and the suited gentleman has the good thought of looking abashed at his actions.
The first council member says, “I assume he is charged with cheating at cards. A despicable act in any realm.” The other man and one of the women nod in agreement. The second woman seems as though she wants to ask a question.
A microphone rises up in front of her and she jumps back startled with a high pitched squeak, but soon leans forward and asks, “Kind sir, why is it you felt it necessary at this festive occasion to cheat at cards?” And as she does so, she waves her hand in a very slight gesture.
The suited man answers quickly, ” Because that is what I do. I am a professional card shark, gambler and cheater. I go from town to town and cheat as many people as I can out of their hard earned money.”
The crowd goes silent as the man slaps a hand over his mouth and looks aghast. You can hear him mumble behind his hand, “Why did I say that?!”
The second lady answers in a tiny high voice, “Because, dear sir, I cast a little truth spell on you so that whatever question I asked next you had to answer in complete honesty.”
The second man speaks up, having been silent up to this point, “What sort of latitude do we have in assigning punishment to this weasel? I dare say, I’m all for throwing the book at him.”
The first woman speaks up and says, “Yeah! Throw the book at the fucker!”
The second man replies, “Yes, quite. What she said.”
The magical woman says, “Oh, I think spinning the wheel and allowing karma to decide his fate is more than fair enough for someone who stole so many others futures.” And the look in her tiny eyes shows all that an extraordinary intellect and age resides in the small, squeaky body.
The teleprompter lights up to the head council man again and he reads, “It has been suggested that we spin the punishment wheel for this accused, all in favor show agreement by the raising of the hands”.
All four members of the council as well as several members in the crowd, not understanding the process completely, raise their hands.
At that, a giant wheel with many pins around the side and many different punishments, in writing too small to see from your position in the crowd pops up in front of the accused. Without him touching it, the wheel begins to spin faster than the eye can see. It seems to take a very long time for it to slow down and while doing so, the suited man seems to be growing smaller within himself and the terror on his face is quite obvious.
Meanwhile the kilted man is standing to the side, arms crossed across his chest, just watching.
Finally, the wheel comes to a stop and the head man reads from the prompter. “Will the accuser please read the punishment to the accused.”
The kilted man walks over, peers at the selected pie slice of wheel and intones in a somber voice, “It says, ‘You will be the centerpiece for the wild hunt to take place at midnight tonight. You have between now and then to put your affairs in order or to run and hide, not that that will do any good.'”
The head man reads from the teleprompter, “Ah… is that … um… is that acceptable to you, sir, as the accuser?”
“Aye,” the kilted man says. “It ’tis.”
“And is it acceptable to the council?” He looks across at the other three, who all nod their heads in agreement.
The first lady mumbling, “The fucker…hey, what’s the Wild Hunt.”
The magical lady leans over and whispers, “Oh honey, they are just the most adorably savage men you ever have seen. You just don’t want to get in their way unless you are naked and in bed.”
The first man then says, “This council session is now adjourned…” and before he can quite finish the sentence with a proper full stop, the four disappear to reappear moments later where they began.
The crowd slowly disperses while the suited man looks around himself in shock. You can’t help but think to yourself, ‘Cheaters never prosper’ as you too continue on your way.
I’m pretty sure this is Paul’s definition…
DEFINITION OF OLD
First, you tell your friend that you are having an affair…….
Then your friend asks you, “Are you having it catered?”
That, my friend, is the definition of OLD
Bob had finally made it to the last round of the $64,000 Question. The night before the big question, he told the Emcee that he desired a question on American History.
The big night had arrived. Bob made his way on stage in front of the studio and TV audience. He had become the talk of the week. He was the best guest this show had ever seen. The Emcee stepped up to the mike.
“Bob, you have chosen American History as your final question. You know that if you correctly answer this question, you will walk away $64,000 dollars richer. Are you ready?”
Bob nodded with a cocky confidence – the crowd went nuts. He hadn’t missed a question all week.
“Bob, your question on American History is a two-part question. As you know, you may answer either part first. As a rule, the second half of the question is always easier. Which part would you like to take a stab at first?”
Bob was now becoming more noticeably nervous. He couldn’t believe it, but he was drawing a blank. American History was his easiest subject, but he played it safe.
“I’ll try the second part first.”
The Emcee nodded approvingly. “Here we go Bob. I will ask you the second half first, then the first half.”
The audience silenced with gross anticipation…
“Bob, here is your question: And in what year did it happen?”
Thanks to Papa Dragon Most Senior for this one…
Italian Bakery in New Jersey
Don’t you love those Italians?
Calandra’s Bakery, a famous bakery in Newark…
Is freedom of speech great or what?
Remember when Barack Hussien Obama said to small business owners,
“You didn’t build that.”
Well, this guy tells him otherwise.
Gotta love a girl with her horse…
A passenger in a taxi tapped the driver on the shoulder to ask him something. The driver screamed, lost control of the cab, nearly hit a bus, drove up over the curb,
and stopped just inches from a large plate glass window.
For a few moments everything was silent in the cab, then the driver said, Please, don’t ever do that again. You scared the daylights out of me.”
The passenger, who was also frightened, apologized and said he didn’t realize that a tap on the shoulder could frighten him so much, to which the driver replied, “I’m sorry, it’s really not your fault at all. Today is my first day driving a cab. I have been driving a hearse for the last 25 years…
This age old argument has been going back and forth since there’s been men and women. Thanks to Ginny for this one that’s called:
Glad To Be A Man and Glad To Be A Woman
I’m Glad I’m A Man!
I’m glad I’m a man, you better believe.
I don’t live off of yogurt, diet coke, or cottage cheese.
I don’t bitch to my girlfriends about the size of my breasts.
I can get where I want to – north, south, east or west.
I don’t get wasted after only 2 beers,
and when I do drink I don’t end up in tears.
I won’t spend hours deciding what to wear.
I spend 5 minutes max fixing my hair.
And I don’t go around checking my reflection
in everything shiny from every direction.
I don’t whine in public and make us leave early,
and when you ask why get all bitter and surly.
I’m glad I’m a man, I’m so glad I could sing.
I don’t have to sit around waiting for that ring.
I don’t gossip about friends or stab them in the back.
I don’t carry our differences into the sack.
I’ll never go psycho and threaten to kill you
or think every guy out there’s trying to steal you.
I’m rational, reasonable, and logical too.
I know what the time is and I know what to do.
And I honestly think its a privilege for me
to have these two balls and stand when I pee.
I live to watch sports and play all sorts of ball.
It’s more fun than dealing with women after all.
I won’t cry if you say it’s not going to work.
I won’t remain bitter and call you a jerk.
Feel free to use me for immediate pleasure.
I won’t assume it’s permanent by any measure.
I’m glad I’m not capable of child delivery.
I don’t get all bitchy every 28 days.
I’m glad that my gender gets me a much bigger raise.
I’m a man by chance and I’m thankful it’s true.
I’m so glad I’m a man and not a woman like you!
And now it’s time for a rebuttal
I’m Glad I’m A Woman!
I’m glad I’m a woman, yes I am, yes I am.
I don’t live off of Budweiser, Beer Nuts and Spam.
I don’t brag to my buddies about my erections.
I won’t drive to Hell before I ask for directions.
I don’t get wasted at parties, and act like a clown.
And I know how to put that damned toilet seat down!
I won’t grab your hooters, I won’t pinch your butt.
My belt buckle’s not hidden beneath my beer gut.
And I don’t go around “re-adjusting” my crotch,
or yell like Tarzan when my headboard gets a notch.
I don’t belch in public, I don’t scratch my behind.
I’m a woman you see-I’m just not that kind!
I’m glad I’m a woman, I’m so glad I could sing.
I don’t have body hair like shag carpeting.
It doesn’t grow from my ears or cover my back.
When I lean over you can’t see 3 inches of crack.
And what’s on my head doesn’t leave with my comb.
I’ll never buy a toupee to cover my dome.
Or have a few hairs pulled from over the side.
I’m a woman, you know-I’ve got far too much pride!
And I honestly think its a privilege for me,
to have these two boobs and squat when I pee.
I don’t live to play golf and shoot basketball.
I don’t swagger and spit like a Neanderthal.
I won’t tell you my wife just does not understand,
or stick my hand in my pocket to hide that gold band.
Or tell you a story to make you sigh and weep,
then screw you, roll over and fall sound asleep!
Yes, I’m so very glad I’m a woman, you see.
Forget all about that old penis envy.
I don’t long for male bonding, I don’t cruise for chicks.
Join the Hair Club For Men, or think with my dick.
I’m a woman by chance and I’m thankful, it’s true.
I’m so glad I’m a woman and not a man like you!
We proceeded down to corridor at a good clip. SC stays with Bruce who has lost the majority of his surly bravado and looks down right hurt and scared, poor guy (OMG! Did I just feel sorry for the little ear piercing enforcer who makes muh pal Lethal seem downright friendly?! Maybe I need to be checked out too!) Chai has taken to standing upright and scanning ahead of us, occasionally looking back both to check the passengers as well as too assure herself I’m still behind them. Her expression is distinctly unhappy with the entire situation.
Shortly, we make our way thru a switch back no doubt designed to prevent noise and light from escaping the main areas. Almost immediately after the switch back the wagon suddenly veers off the main path and heads for a side tunnel.The tablet on the wagons handle tells me to continue to follow the lights down the main corridor and that the felines are being taken to medical facilities to be checked out and treated. Chai voices extreme displeasure which both SC and Bruce are quick to echo. Sadly I don’t have a choice, the corridor they are going to disappear down in a moment is too small for me to follow.
“Ninja Kitties! You have a man down! Protect him at all costs. We leave no man, no cat and no dragon behind! If we’re not voluntarily reunited shortly, I will come find you. We came together and that’s how we’re leaving. I swear on my gold pile.”
Chai and SC nod curtly at me being sure to look me in the eyes. You know for something about .001% of my size, them Ninja Kitties sure do have non-vocal intimidation skills that are off the charts. Plus I really want to learn that fluffy tail trick. Might seriously be worth looking into growing fur on it to achieve…nah all that constant licking it and subsequent hairy tongue? BLEECH! Though come to think of it, Dragon sized flaming hair balls could be an effective weapon and quite handy. I’ll make a mental note to work on that one later. If there is a later.
As I’ve been pondering this I’ve been continuing down the hall following the lights. I round another corner and the corridor opens into a huge cavern easily four or five times the size of anything in our HQ. I can dimly make out the ceiling probably five or 6 stories above me. Roughly one third of the rear wall was covered with what I could only term a jumbo size Jumbotron unlike any I had ever seen. It had to be 50 feet wide by 30 foot high and every section, at the moment, held a different image. A fast count and I guesstimated it to be made up of a gross of 60 inch displays. Around the side and presumably above my vantage point as well, Several half level with what I took for armored glass walls on the cavern side plus numerous connecting catwalks and metal stairways protruded at various locations around the cavern as it rises. Likewise for what I take to be multiple security and defensive features, some appearing quite technologically impressive, formidable fortifications and one or two down right even dragon scaring. OK so toasting the Leprechaun here over what happened might not be the best course of action but by Cthulhu I was going to get some answers.
I stepped out into the room from the corridor and in my best Ricky Ricardo imitation sung out “Mr. Green, you evil shoe elf, you gots some ‘splainin’ ta do!”
The entire cavern instantly went dark, that is all except for where I was standing. A tiny 2 foot diameter spot appeared on the floor and I was repeatedly screamed at to stand in the spotlight.
“Hey dim-twits! Dragon here! I don’t have anything that fits inside that little lit up circle and if you think I’m shrinking down to even try and fit in it, after the events of the last 2 hours, you’re nucking futs and destined to be flame broiled like every one else that acts hostilely towards me in this mountain of bullshit.” Damn. I really needed to start carrying a pocket recorder, I was never going to accurately remember lines like that for my memoirs. Aww the hell with it. I’d just make something up when we got to that part. Assuming, that is, that I actually survived the next five minutes and got out of here to recount that part.
There were laser sights dancing all over me like a swarm of angry LED driven fireflies. The spot grew to about 6 feet and the demand I stand in it repeated, again in triplicate- must have been the official red tape bureaucratic mindset leaking over into security.
“You paying for that circle by the photon, you stingy SoBs?” The spot was joined by three more light sources making a roughly ten to twelve foot spot. I heard the unmistakable sounds of Gatling guns spinning up, definitely not mini guns, the pitch was too low. More cannons then, though I highly doubted they were of the GAU-8 variety that the A-10s had been sporting, given those were the size, length and weight of a VW bug. More likely one of the variants based off it, likely one of the ones used by the US Navy for their Close-In-Weapons System. Fewer barrels with some what smaller projectiles on the up side, automatic targeting, a higher rate of fire and their generally using APEX (Armor Piercing High Explosive) rounds which probably at this range would pierce my hide before going boom inside me on the downside. [Hey where was all this knowledge in my head coming from anyway? Pretty cool definitely, handy for sure but seriously scary that I knew it all! What the hell was going on with me?] Despite all that the thing that frightened me most was the wall of dancing flashes of light just outside my vision range, two of the lights I was standing in being deliberately positioned/selected for their forward vision interfering side effect. I only knew one think that danced like that and would reflect the light like that. A Cyber-Lethal’s Super Sized Magical Dancing Shillelagh. Those we’re unavoidable and unshakable, to say nothing of being damnably & preternaturally fast, which meant serious trouble and pain before they inevitably laid me out cold. Not flaming first and asking questions during a séance later was stating to look like a serious tactical mistake.
Suddenly the Jumbo Jumbotron flared back to life and I could just make out the sounds of small footsteps making their way in my direction in no particular hurry while conducting several conversations simultaneously. “The fires out? Are you sure this time? We don’t need anymore of those rounds cooking off while the recovery team is in there sanitizing the area! Those 30 mm rubber rounds might not be seriously dragon injurious but they’ll damned well kill a mundane. I have your assurance? OK.
Control to Recovery Team: This time the fires really are out in Training Area Three, but I suggest you still approach with caution. Advise when recovery of all drone units is completed. If you can’t recover something then destroy it in place and bury it under a rockslide. We need that area to look like nothing happened there today. Control out.
Mr. Green to Infirmary: Report please! How bad is he? I..sigh…I understand. Send the other two to main control please. Pardon me? I see. Are they interfering? OK then what… AH! I understand completely and see your problem. You are cleared to use the tranquilizer spray on them if necessary. In the meantime, suggest that one of them come and see me and the other can remain there. Let them decide between them who does what. Do you need anything you don’t have for your patient? OK if you suddenly do, contact Procurement you have an immediate priority clearance for anything you might need for your patient up to $100K and a medical air evac unit is on hot standby. Keep me informed of your patient’s condition. Reports every 15 minutes. OK every 30 then, but I want immediate notification…yes I understand, but now understand me, I’m in charge here and I want to know the second there is a problem if there is one. Are we clear? Good Green out.”
I was trying to process everything I’d just heard. Obviously I was meant to hear it. My hearing capability was well known to Mr. Green who once said that I could hear a donut falling through the air before it ever hit the ground, but totally miss the entire briefing that was going on while said donut was falling. Rubber bullets in those A-10’s? That meant they weren’t out to kill me. What were they out to do then? Training area? There wasn’t any training sessions currently on my schedule. Why was it important that such a desolate and isolated location look like nothing happened? Obviously the discussion with the infirmary was about Bruce but just how bad was he? $100K blank check and a medical air evac on hot standby by weren’t things I associated with someone with the wind knocked out of him. And why were SC & Chai apparently action Ninja Kitty enough to intimidate the medical staff? What were they afraid was going to be done to Bruce?!
The foot steps stopped someplace close by, but with these blindingly bright lights in my eyes making me squint and my eyes water, I couldn’t quite make out where. I hadn’t been here long enough to figure out all the sound echo patterns to the place so echo locating Mr.Green wasn’t going to work either. Just then then spots seemed like they were diming, either that or my retinas were burning out. No definitely the lights diming. I could make out the silhouette of Mr. Green holding up what I took for a remote. I was seriously considering lunging for him and shaking some answers out of him when I realized I was now ringed by those damned giant dancing shillelaghs. Shit! Was I ever going to get a break today? Mr. Green clicked the remote at the darkness and I heard a whirring off to my right. A wagon like the one that had carted the three cats off came up slide smoothly through the dancing shillelaghs and came to a stop by my foot. The odor of coffee, really good coffee wafted up to my nose and tweaked it. The cup turned out to be very ingenious, two five gallon stainless steel buckets had been welded, one inside the other, to form a vacuum insulated cup with custom scroll worked handle, with the word ‘BLUE’ obviously laser cut into it.
“Thanks I needed this about now, but don’t think this makes up for the shit storm of a cock up today Mr. Green.”
“As usual MR. Blue you’re exercising your penchant for grabbing the bull by the balls rather than the horns or tail and succeeding in pissing him off. This ‘shit storm of a cock up’ as you so quaintly but accurately termed it, and I’ll thank you to stop trying to sound as though you have any clue about euphemisms used in the UK or Ireland, was not my doing or D.R.AG.O.N’s. The responsibility in fact can be equally shared by you and your three furry pals. More’s the pity because as you have noted, you were on a bit of a roll, what with not being arrested or even accused of anything and there being no bodies eaten or requiring disposal of in the last week. Too bad the roll had to come to such a sudden and hard end.’
What the hell was he talking about? How could this all be the fault of me and the Ninja Kitties?! Ok I could buy I had messed something up. I probably never even stopped to consider or missed something, someplace along the line, but the Ninja Kitties were just along for an aerial outing to help break in my new cargo vest!
“Uh…come again? Just how is what happened the fault of me and the Ninja kitties? I followed your little drone as directed and the cats just tagged along for the ride. Nothing was ever said about my being attacked.”
“Both groups failed to follow their mission orders as outlined. The two N.K. operatives were only to see you got your vest, wore it and that the door to your office patio got opened for the drone. By the bye, I laud you for that simple yet extremely secure locking mechanism you installed on that patio door to prevent our drones from accessing your office via remote opener while you’re not around.”
Thanks I thought..wait. What? Two N.K operatives? But I had 3 of them in my office waiting for me.
“Yes Bruce wasn’t part of the mission team, nor is he actually even cleared for D.R.A.G.O.N. missions. Apparently he had taken to camping out in your office because you were avoiding him over the entire Pork Roll thing between you and Mr. Leprechaun. When he saw all the wrapping paper and the huge box, apparently he decided to crash the party.”
As Mr.Green completes his thought another light comes on and a two foot circle illuminates a startled Grey Tabby stalking across the floor. For all intents and purposes, S.C. looks like a miniaturized version of some jungle big cat stalking prey, which in this case appears to be Mr. Green. A squirt gun appears in Mr.Greens hand and draws a line across the floor in front of the stalking cat. Cat stops stalking abruptly. A liver colored nose and scowling grey face wrinkle in apparent distaste for the liquid. Whiskers fold back nearly flat against cheeks maintaining maximum distance from the offending scent. With nostrils the size of soft balls I can’t help but get a whiff of…citrus and vinegar?
“Essential oils of Orange, Lemon, Lime, Grapefruit and Bergamot in a white vinegar suspension. Not only an effective, non-injurious, non toxic angry feline deterrent but a pretty good green cleaner and air freshener as well, when misted rather than streamed or sprayed.”
SC with care and distain skirts around the line and uses my vest to climb up onto my shoulder where she head butts me and when she has my attention cocks her head sideways as if to say, “What’s going on? You going to eat him over Bruce or should I claw him to death slowly?”
“It seems S, that somehow we are at fault for everything that happened, not Mr. Green, in his opinion. He was just explaining his train of thought on the subject when you walked in. I was waiting for an opportunity to derail it for him in an AMTRAK moment. Excuse the interruption Mr. Green, please continue.”
Mr. Green getting quite visibly annoyed with both our attitudes becomes quite clipped with his explanation.
Since you both are notorious for short attention spans I’ll be brief in my explanation:
1.) While Brutus is a member of the N.K.C.s he’s not a member of D.R.A.G.O.N.
2.) The subcontracting agreement as negotiated by Mr. Leprechaun for D.R.A.G.O.N’s use of N.K. C. specifically states that Bruce the Brutal is not a field grade asset and will only be available for dealing with matters of interrogation and/or information retrieval and any other preapproved, non-field assignments.
3.) N.K.C members SC & Chai were tasked with the mission of getting the vest Mr. Blue is currently clad in, to him and seeing that he donned it in the correct manner. They were also tasked with getting the tracking and communication device, your stylish new earring Mr. Blue, permanently affixed to Mr. Blue’s ear and seeing that the patio door got opened for our drone. Apparently, at some point while waiting for Mr. Blue’s return, the N.K.C. decided to assign the earring installation task to Bruce. D.R.A.G.O.N. was never consulted or in formed of this and, while we would have had no objection, we would have made it clear that Bruce’s participation would have to have ended with the installation of the earring.
4.) The N.K.C. operative’s orders were that their mission was completed, and involvement over, once these three objectives were met. They chose to disregard this and tag along or, if you will, stow away on Mr.Blue’s summons.
5.) Mr. Blues orders were quite explicit – (the words from the drone appear glowing on the floor between us and Mr. Green)
Don the vest. Follow me.
I see nothing in there about, bring the N.K.C operatives, load cats in vest, invite friends, or make it a party. In fact, I’m quite sure there wasn’t anything else because I wrote those orders and loaded the projector, as well as loading the projector into the drone myself. Just- (again the words appear glowing on the floor)
Don the vest. Follow me.
I was starting to think perhaps Mr. Green wasn’t riding the crazy train after all. Maybe he had somewhat of a point. There was still the matter of the A-10 attack however.
“And the sneak attack with six A-10’s you sent to hunt me? What’s up with that crap? There is no training sorties on my training schedule. Further, why didn’t you call it off when you realized that I had the N.K.Cs with me, especially Bruce since he wasn’t cleared for field work?”
“You figure on getting notice of attacks and ambushes from A.S.S., their hirelings, minions, sympathizers or from any other faction we oppose and go up against? Maybe a hand calligraphied Fatwa from some Fundamentalist Islamic Terrorist group calling for your beheading or a flowery Declaration of Jihad on you? It was a no-notice exercise to see just how you would perform when out manned and out gunned. Would you stay and fight if cornered or seek to escape, evade and live to fight another day?
As for the presence of the N.K.C. members, we were not aware they had exceeded their orders until gun camera footage showed you and SC doing a Never-ending Story imitation heading into the box canyon. At that time we could only observe SC & Chai whom were on your back. It wasn’t until much later, when you were playing chicken with the remaining two undamaged A-10, as the last of the original four was barreling up your backside, that we became aware of Bruce’s presence. As it was, I changed the drones’ orders so that they wouldn’t hit you even with the rubber rounds they were carrying, for fear of killing one of the N.K.C. who were interfering with an extremely expensive training evolution. An evolution I elected to allow to continue to run to see exactly what you’d do, being under attack with far more easily injured passengers in your charge. Also to underline the fact, to all of you involved, that there can be extreme consequences to not following instructions given to you to and improvising the entire mission from wing flap or paw/claw step one. Also certain members of the N.K.C needed a graphic reminder of exactly who is in charge around here. IF you don’t lay down the law to them every chance you get, they start thinking they’re the ones in charge and you work for them. Occasional encounters with metaphorical junkyard dogs help them to remember.
As to what happen to Bruce, while regrettable and certainly not foreseen by the mission planning at all, one member of your little band of bother, notice I didn’t say brothers, did in fact foresee danger for Bruce. If you’ll recall Chai, when she heard you teasing Bruce about his size and egging him into doing recon, got up on your shoulder and gave him the feline equivalent of the stink eye in warning. By that time, Bruce was too wound up on adrenaline and too smarting from the sharps your words carried. He’s used to being the one making the cuts not the one being cut, especially not by someone he trusts and likes. There was no way in any of his 6 lives he wasn’t going to do what you asked and try to pull his weight thereby proving to you that size doesn’t matter and the N.K.C he was fully capable of field operations.”
“Excuse me, but don’t you mean 9 lives?”
SC hangs her head slightly and shakes it, after sighing deeply. What was it that everyone else knew that I didn’t about Bruce?
“How old do you think Bruce is?”
“Bruce? Well given his size and the way he terrorizes that knee sock of Lethal’s I swiped and filled with yard balls and catnip… maybe just under a year?”
“He’s three years old…and fully grown. I wasn’t making a mistake when I said 6 lives, nor has he had any close calls to lose three in. Bruce is the runt of his litter as well as the only one in it to survive. His mother was a starving semi feral stray, who was captured looking for a safe place to have her litter. Medical scans show that while Bruce might have the personality of a Manx, the heart of a Ocelot and the ego of the MGM lion, he’s got the physical development of a 9 month old kitten and is decidedly less able to handle the rigors dangers and injuries of everyday catdom outside an indoor environment. Hence his administrative and interrogative duties. What he was blessed with is an over abundant will to live, determination, and an extremely quick and inquisitive mind. My understanding is the little guy bested Chai in a battle of wits to obtain something they both wanted badly and she brought him back to the N.K.C. I wouldn’t ever mentioned that to her however. Major. Sore. Spot.”
My furry wingless pirate parrot SC seemed to be chuckling in agreement at that on my shoulder. Mr. Green turned his back to us after looking at the Magical Dancing Shillelagh which magically formed a dancing double line between him and us. Using his remote the jumbo Jumbotron flared back to life. Suddenly I understood why Mr. Green was able to say all these things with such certainty and why my pal Lethal had never seen it as necessary to stop into Chitty’s new digs and inspect them. They were all single screens on the Jumbotron. Chitty’s garage where her bonnet, as she referred to her hood, was up and the mechanics were wearing gloves and installing something. My outer office with Terrance at his desk, the desk Bruce had leaped from to declare himself in on the package shredded and box exploration. My office, still carpeted in shredded brown paper and string. The box canyon, at least 12 separate viewing angles. Finally there was one of a cat bed, inside what I took for a small Plexiglas cage holding a slowly and deeply breathing Bruce…with an ever watchful Chai who seemed to be insistent on smelling, nosing and examining everything before and after it was used on Bruce. Neither Mr. Green nor Lethal needed to go anyplace to learn or see anything for themselves. Instead it all came to them right here.
My study of Bruce was interrupted by Mr. Green calling my attention to other screens making up the Jumbotron.
“You might think we’re harsh and uncaring or that we don’t give a damn about our operatives. In fact it’s quite the opposite, our mission orders are designed to give you the highest chance of both completing the mission as well as getting back safely and in one piece. Yes missions go south occasionally, due to unforeseen circumstances requiring improvisation and thinking outside the box. However, generally speaking, that isn’t the norm. I told you before that this line of work is actually quite dull and somewhat monotonous. However, it becomes far more dangerous for every one involved if we can’t trust our field agents to do exactly what they are told, when and how they are told. There are more than enough dangers out there presenting themselves without adding that to the mix.”
Individual screens began enlarging as he clicked his remote to fill the center of the Jumbotron while those around the edge constantly reordered themselves
“Ignoring for the moment our core mission of protecting ourselves from those Mundanes who would see us used for their personal benefit &/or addendas, there are the Fundamentalist Islamic threats, <click>
Al Qaeda in Iraq, <click>
Boko Haram in Nigeria, <click>
ISIS world wide and bragging about having 71 terrorists in 15 states inside our border. <click>
Speaking of borders, there’s the US borders, both Northern and Southern, that might as well be revolving doors. This, of course, to say nothing of a certain southern neighbor’s belief that territorial sovereignty is a one way thing and that we owe them the right to dump their people they can’t take care of in our laps, simply because once, almost two hundred years ago, a portion of the US belonged to them, which leads us to <click>
Militant Factions from our Southern Border Nation “friends” <click>
La Raza which agitates and advocates for these illegals and laxer policies towards them with the stated goal of taking these once Mexican territories aback and kicking Anglos out.<click>
The Mexican Drug Cartels who will not only do anything any place and show wonton disregard for our borders, laws and people to spread their drugs and violence, but are also rumored to allow access to their smuggling network for a price to terrorist organizations seeking to move manpower and material across our borders. <click>
Then there are the homegrown threats <click>
Our present President, who publicly stated that as a lame duck he’d have more leeway to force his liberal agenda on the American People <click>
A Congress mired in political tit for tat infighting along party lines so badly that its been 4 years since we had a budget. Then there are the early campaigners for the Presidential Election. <click>
Huckabee, who has publicly stated that God trumps the Supreme Court. <click>
Jeb ‘Hanging Chad’ Bush who sees no constitutional right to gay marriage . Who has publicly stated “on the Christian Broadcasting Network show, “The Brody File, in an interview broadcast:
“It’s at the core of the Catholic faith and to imagine how we are going to succeed in our country unless we have committed family life, (a) committed child-centered family system, is hard to imagine,” So, irrespective of the Supreme Court ruling because they are going to decide whatever they decide – I don’t know what they are going to do – we need to be stalwart supporters of traditional marriage,” said Bush, who converted to Catholicism 20 years ago.” <click>
Hillary “I’m not a witch” Clinton, who has never met a truth she could hold in her mouth, a lie about her actions she couldn’t shamelessly peddle or an accountability for her actions she couldn’t shrug off. Word has it when she goes to the ocean sharks give her a wide birth out of professional distaste not courtesy. The sharks are afraid being associated with her will harm their reputations <click>
Cruz who seems a liberal government conspiracy behind everything it does. <click>
Fiorina who thinks world traveling and managing a money losing Corporation through a six year thirty thousand job downsizing and claims she’s the best person for the job because she “understands how the economy works” qualifies her to be President despite never having held a political office. <click>
Sanders the self described independent socialist, what the hell that means exactly.<click>
Carson a retired Black Pediatric Neurosurgeon and current darling of the Conservatives who hasn’t even held any office and publically stated he didn’t think anyone was qualified to be President by themselves. <click>
Then there are the estimated 40 plus billionaires up from twenty three in the 2012 election seeking to influence our Government and circumvent the will of WE THE PEOPLE by buying campaigns, elections and the winning candidate.”
“Hang on a moment, Mr. Green, you lost me there. How can anyone buy an election? Aren’t our election laws and process designed to stop such an event from ever occurring?”
“Well they used to be, until 2010 that is. Its actually quite simple, the Supreme Court’s Citizens United v. FEC decision put the government up for sale. Essentially what the Supreme Court did in Citizens United is to say to these same billionaires and the corporations they control: ‘You own and control the economy, you own Wall Street, you own the coal companies, you own the oil companies. Now, for a very small percentage of your wealth, we’re going to give you the opportunity to own the United States government. The liberal Billionaires took this ruling and its permutations to heart and as a result we have proof of concept that it was either a bad ruling by a Conservative Court (possibly to please their purse string masters) or we have some seriously flawed Elections Laws requiring a major rewrite and overhaul in the form of 8 years of Barack Obama in the Oval Office.
I looked at the jumbo Jumbotron which has now reverted to its mosaic of individual screens form. Currently only about a dozen screens are devoted to monitoring sites or subjects I’m personally familiar with. That leaves One Hundred Thirty Two screens monitoring possible/probably threats not only to Mythical Creatures but to the land and people I have come to love as much as my own home realm. I suddenly find myself overwhelmed by the enormity of the task I’ve agreed to help undertake.
“What is..Where do…How do you… Oh man! How the hell am I supposed to know where to begin?”
“You don’t Mr. Blue. We tell you, what, when and where, though usually not why. It’s a matter of trust, you trust us to get you where you need to be with what you need to get the job done and we trust you to follow ours explicitly and do whatever it takes to get the job done and return safely.
Clan Mistress SC, I’m informed Bruce is becoming..a paw full for Chai to cope with and she has threatened to box his ears for him, something I gather is not at this point medically advised regardless of how much he might need it. If you could please return at once to the Infirmary I believe your presence would be of benefit.”
SC paws me upside the head (abet sans claws) none to gently to gain my attention before looking me straight in the eyes and says “Meh! Mip-mip reh Nooo?” before anxiously glancing at Bruce and Chi’s image taking up the center of the Jumbotron screen currently. The majority of Bruce’s agitation seems to be centered around what appear to be two fiberglass casts on his front legs.
For a moment I’m at a loss to decipher her question that she apparently considers getting answered by me important enough to delay her departure over. Then suddenly it hits me. “I said what I said and I meant it SC, nothing that’s been here changes any of that. The only thing that will is me being held against my will or dead. Now got see to Shor..umm.. Surly and Sharp. Tell him I said not more free flights if he doesn’t calm down and do what he’s told.”
I no sooner register the brush of SC’s cheek along my muzzle and a soft purr them I feel bounding feet dashing down my back and tail. The lighting struggles to keep SC illuminated but the Clan Mistress can really move out for an old girl when she wants. The best the lights manage is 2 stages behind her as she exits the room.
“Bruce looked bad” I say to Mr. Green, “Planned or not he is part of my team until I return him to the DL/LL HQ and I’d like a briefing on his condition. Will it be safe for him to fly out of here with me? I have a promise I made to my team to keep.”
“Yes I know”, <click> “Ninja Kitties! You have a man down! Protect him at all costs. We leave no man, no cat and no dragon behind! If we’re not voluntarily reunited shortly, I will come find you. We came together and that’s how we’re leaving. I swear on my gold pile.” “Well spoken and good on you. However, please remember that the mission has to take precedence above all. It’s a hard lesson to learn, but the good of the many…”
Mr. Green smiles at me which is totally unexpected. “Off the record I personally agree with you. Know that I will back you and run as much interference for you should you chose saving your team over the mission. As to Bruce… he suffering a concussion, spinal impact/compression shock, and three cracked ribs. A few days and he should be back on limited enforcement duty.”
“But what about the casts on his front legs?”
“Necessary for the medical staffs safety not for any injury. He’s not a particularly patient patient. Now.. as far as your unannounced training went today. We’ll need to wait for the official assessment, but from where I sit in my opinion you acted as typical you. Completed the mission, did it in unexpected expected manner, but generally exceeded expectations. Good job. Now what do you say we go assure Bruce you’ve not left him behind and make sure he understands his adventuring days are over shall we?”
“Uhh…can we leave those casts on him until he gets over the hissing & spitting fit he’s going throw when you tell him no more adventure time?”
“What’s ‘you tell him’ shit? He’s you’re team member, your responsibility and you basically caused the problem. You’re going to tell him not me!”
This is another one of them surprise training things isn’t it?
“You’re learning Padawan, you’re learning. Maybe your learning curve isn’t essentially flat after all.”
The hell with my learning curve being flat I was more worried about being flattened by 6 pounds of furry furious feline who hated the word ‘No’.
I hope you enjoyed today’s episode. This story line is beginning to become somewhat of an obsession with Lethal and I. It sure would be nice to hear a little feedback on how all of you are taking it. Leaving a comment is a nice way to communicate with us and if you follow the comments, you are likely to get in on more of the fun.
Today’s Last Word comes to us from my buddy Wheats. It’s a two-part issue. The first one is a quote he found on one of the many websites he frequents, and it speaks for itself.
This was posted by a fellow on PJ Media, a conservative website and blog-post. It is very salient to today’s issues.
The Race Card is the most rapid-fire, all purpose, over used and abused, ad hominem and vapid weapon of smear, mass deception and diversion ever conceived by man. It is a weapon under which the weakest of minds are servilely crouched and can be fired with the greatest of ease by even the most reason and integrity challenged, and in fact, was designed especially for use by them. It is void of justice. It is void of liberty. It needs no footing in rationality. It is, in plain and clear fact, similar to a lynching. It has no expiration date. It doesnt even appear to have a half life. There are those who theorize that it may continue to exist indefinitely in some form even after time itself has come to an end.
Nicely said and quite salient.
This next one is a news item from his neck of the woods.
A great story from York, South Carolina, where Peyton Robinson, a senior at York High School, fought back against a school administration who wanted to force him to remove two large flags from his pickup truck bed — the American and POW-MIA flags.
Robinson’s truck is known throughout the county as he proudly displays those flags in his travels. He’s a volunteer firefighter, a bull riding enthusiast, a devout Christian — and someone willing to stand up to the politically correct school administration that sought to curtail his free speech rights.
On Wednesday, May 13, he was pulled from class and sent to meet an administrator in the parking lot, where he discovered his flags had been removed and placed in the bed of his truck. He was told by school officials, “Do not return to school with these flags.”
After school, Robinson drove home, re-mounted the flags, and decided that he was not going to allow anybody to mess with his truck, or his patriotism. He posted a photo of the American flag in his truck on social media with the promise: “Still flying, and it ain’t coming down.”
What happened next warms the cockles of the heart:
When word got out around York County and the town of McConnells, Robinson’s hometown, that one of their own was going to take a stand for the American flag, folks came from every direction to support him.
On Thursday, An impromptu parade of more than 70 vehicles filled with flag-waving friends, classmates, and local patriots made its way through town and then parked in front of the school for a demonstration, country-style.
The story topped the news all over this conservative-leaning South Carolina county, and was soon picked up by national media.
Robinson told a radio reporter that school officials gave him three different reasons for their anti-flag action. “First they told me that somebody had complained about it,” he said. “Then they said there was a rule against flags. Finally they said it was a safety hazard.”
The school’s superintendent, Vernon Prosser, cited a ‘standing policy’ against flags, but Robinson said no official policy was ever produced, and flags are neither mentioned in the student handbook nor on the school’s website.
“I’d understand if it was the Confederate flag or something that might offend somebody,” Robinson told WBTV news. “I wouldn’t do that. But an American flag? That’s our country’s flag. I have every right to do it.”
We see this sort of thing all the time in other idiotic incidents of school administrators arbitrarily enforcing political correctness. They claim there’s a written policy when there isn’t. They claim someone might be offended and nobody is. And then, when forced to change direction, they say they supported the action all the time.
“We appreciate the passion and pride of all who have called or come by YCHS over the past 24 hours,” the statement read. “America was founded by patriots who led positive change in a myriad of ways. We believe today is a great example of peaceful demonstration leading to positive change.
“This is the very process we advocate in our Social Studies classrooms and the fabric of American citizenship. Thank you for helping us as we educate the students of our community.”
Maybe there’s hope for the next generation yet.
Read more: http://pjmedia.com/tatler/2015/05/16/dont-mess-with-this-young-mans-american-flag/#ixzz3auXDEfE0
Good on you, young man!