Sighted! 7 of them at once, all together!

And…some driven by boredom fun from the surrogate Wayne and Garth of VQ-2:

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Warning: Some “non-diversity sensitive” wording may be involved in this video….

Don’t stop before it ends…it’s not what you might think it is.

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H/T: Neptunus Lex reader ASM826.

On a t-shirt:

“Viral marketing doesn’t work.  Tell everyone you know.”

A little levity in all the stories of fabrication from Dr. Sanity:

BEAUCHAMP AT THE BAT
The Outlook was quite brilliant for The New Republic rag:
The polls were in their favor, and the public will had sagged.
But when Bush didn’t falter, as Petraeus led the surge,
A sickly silence fell upon those moonbats on the verge.

A straggling few got up and wailed deep despair. The rest
Clung to that hope which springs eternal in the human breast;
They thought, if only one more Abu Ghraib could be brought to light–
They’d put up even money, that we’d lose all will to fight.

So upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat,
For there seemed but little chance that they could count on that.
Then from a thousand leftist throats there rose a lusty yell;
The New Republic had a piece that claim the war was hell!

There was ease in Beauchamp’s manner as he stepped into his place;
There was pride in his raw expose, and a smile on TNR’s face.
And when, responding to the cheers, he staunchly stood by his claims,
No leftist in the crowd could doubt they’d near-achieved their aims.

A million eyes were on him as he told his tragic story;
The defeatists all applauded as he defamed his Unit’s glory.
And as commanders searched to see if Beauchamp’s tales were true,
They nonetheless were heralded; and those with doubts were few.

From TNR editors there came a muffled roar,
“How can you even doubt us?” they all cried, “We verified as before!”
“He’s just a courageous soldier with great moral authority!”
And its likely they’d a-sainted him; but that was not to be.

“Fraud!” cried his comrades, and the echo answered fraud;
But one scornful look from Beauchamp and the leftist crowd was awed.
John Murtha’s face grew stern and cold, and they saw his muscles strain,
And they knew that Beauchamp had found support in the weakest links again.

Now the sneer is gone from TNR, though the left’s still filled with hate;
Their lofty goal of surrendering will surely have to wait.
Because right now the truth is out, and and they have to let it go,
Because too many people realize, and too many people know….

Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright;
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout;
But there is no joy in Moonbat land- mighty Beauchamp has struck out.

UPDATE: It seems he probably was suffering from Pre-Traumatic Stress Disorder!
– Diagnosed by Dr. Sanity @ 9:24 AM Comments (9) | Trackback (0)

H/T: Little Green Footballs reader pat.

Oh, and not to worry. IT seems the entire story “Shock Troops” has been removed, without explanation from The New Republic website. Interesting, but certainly not unbelievable.

One of the local talk show hosts had a little dust up with the Harry Potter book people. He had purchased, with his own money, a case of the most current book. He had them and a week ago Friday, said he’d have a lottery to send the books out, which would be expressed out on Friday, using overnight/Saturday delivery methods, so the books would be in the people’s hands after the selling, which began at midnight. He had passed this through his legal department and had gotten it OKed.

He announced this on his MJ Morning Show. He left after his show, but later got a call from the station management, who said the Harry Potter people had sent a local rep to confiscate the books, and…his managers had handed over his personal property, so as not to get over the breakers with the publisher in the legal realm.

Yep, he was a little incensed with this all. Anyhow, he did buy some books at midnight, then took them to the range and checked to see, when faced with various calibers, if Harry Potter lived of died in this edition.

I’m thinking 9mm from an H&K MP5 on full auto won this round…but watch the video and see what you think.

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More here on the story, including two more videos, mashups using “Scarface” and “Terminator 2” as backdrops and to set the mood…

About two weeks ago:

Stopped at the video store to return movies. There is a bench on the sidewalk, adjacent to the drop slot. The lady sitting on the bench asked “Letters from Iwo Jima?” No, sorry. “My husband is inside at the counter waiting to see if one comes up in there.”

Redundancy, and, willingness to help bag the war movie for the hubby. Good team, I’d say.

Read all the way to the end of this excerpt from an editorial from across the water by Ron Liddle in the TimesOnline:

Another important blow struck in the war against terror. A rather dippy English lady called Jane Felix-Browne has married Osama Bin Laden’s son Omar and intends to live with him in Saudi Arabia. Felix-Browne, 51, who also uses the name Zaina Mohamad al-Sabah and is plainly as mad as a snake, says Omar, 26, loves his dad very much and misses him dreadfully but they “disagree about tactics”.

According to Felix-Browne, Omar hasn’t spoken to Osama since – er, when was it? – 2001. Well, we’ve all had a bit of a problem getting hold of him since then, haven’t we. Maybe he didn’t pay his phone bill in Tora Bora, who knows.

The two lovers met, incidentally, while Felix-Browne, a grandmother who has been married five times before, was having a look around the pyramids: it was love at first sight, for her. The name Bin Laden gave her no qualms at all, she said. Any more than if it had been Crippen or Gadaffi, I suppose.

This is the way forward, though. Never mind the cluster bombs and Challenger tanks, the way to defeat Al-Qaeda is to dispatch legions of barking mad Englishwomen to mate with them, thus seriously compromising the jihadist gene pool and perhaps destroying the terrorists’ resolve and even their will to live.

Wow…several points to grasp and laugh about in that bit of reporting/commentary/observation on the effect on family relations when you can’t manage to pay your utility bills.

But in case you think Ron is rather one dimensional, then there is this end to the writing:

Keith Best, the boss of the Immigration Advisory Service, reckons that immigrants are “better” citizens than those of us who were born here – which has a nicely counter-intuitive ring to it.

There’s a nasty perception at large in the country that all too many immigrants scarcely have time to complete their citizenship tests before suddenly feeling impelled to strap on the Semtex and head for a nightclub or transport hub. Many people complained about Best’s statement, pointing out that it is we second-rate citizens who pay the £13m a year it costs to run his organisation.

Best was once Tory MP for Anglesey before being sent to prison for dodgy share purchases – so perhaps he intended his comments in a purely personal sense.

At least we can relax and know we still have our ties to the mother country in the form of unbridled, rampant immigration whack jobs.

H/T: Chapomatic

Open trackbacks….who could ask for anything more?

“Sea stories?” Yep, a sailor always has a few at hand….

Yes, I was politically incorrect, before we knew it was politically incorrect….

In September, 1980, I reported to my first shore based assignment at Fleet Combat Training Center, Atlantic. After two sea tours, I was looking forward to the assignment.

As a Lieutenant, I was put on the Base’s Command Duty Officer (CDO) watchbill, with a rotation of 1 in 30, the time being measured in days, not hours. So, once a month, roughly, I’d have to go to the XO’s office in the morning with the off-going CDO and do our turnover with him. Most of the work day was still spent working, but with a pager on your belt, in case something arose.

After work, you had various duties to attend to, such as sampling the meal at the mess hall, taking a drive around the base to spot check the buildings being locked, checking in the the Quarterdeck watch in Taylor Hall and generally ensuring the calm atmosphere, and being ready to answer the emergency calls.

Considering the sea duty I had come from, as well as most of my peers there,  consisted of inport watch rotation being 1 in three days, and underway watches being port and starboard (a watch period on, then one off, then back to watch) of 4 (hours) on, 8 (hours) off, it was a holiday for us “Fleet Lieutenants.”

The watchbill consisted of all W-2s and -3s, and Ensigns to LTs. W-4s and LCDRs were exempted from the CDO Watch standing duties. Having more than 30 people in that category, after 32 more people of those ranks arrived, you would be freed from the rotation. Depending on the time you arrived, you may be on the watchbill 12 months, or maybe out to 18 months, it was all determined by the “Blind Watchmakers” at the Bureau of Personnel. For Unrestricted Line Officers like myself (those with the path to commanding a vessel or air squadron), that time frame comprised 1/2 to 3/4 of your two year shore duty assignment, normally coming after 3 years in the Fleet. We also had a number of “General Unrestricted Line” (“GURLs”) officers assigned to the base. These officers, with rare exception, were females, not being able to be sent to sea (this was before women were assigned to ships). Their tours, generally beginning at the rank of Ensign, were three year assignments. Their time on the CDO watch bill, at the worst, would span about 1/2 of their time, and no more.

I had been standing the CDO duties for just about a year, and I was due to roll off within about two months, when the command received a new Executive Officer. I don’t recall his name, but he was an aviator, and had been a POW in North Vietnam.  After he had been in the saddle about a month, he asked the Senior Watch Officer why so many fleet experienced Lieutenants came to his office for CDO turnover, when he kept running into masses of Ensigns and Lt JGs who seemingly were all over the base, but off the rotation.  The LCDR told him how the “membership” for the CDO list was set up and the XO apparently uttered some impolite words, indicating his displeasure. He then directed Rich to get out the linela number list (the precedence order of all Naval Officer) and put the 32 most junior qualified people in the rotation. It seemed the XO objected to post sea tour O-3s holding down the fort, when more junior officers were available.

Rich dutifully reworked the list and got it approved, then held a meeting of all officers in the W-2/3/O-1/-2/-3 range. I remember it pretty well. Certainly there was the aspect of “orders is orders” but not without the “happy sailors” doing what “happy” sailors do regarding a wide range of things, in this case, the fact that some people would be returned to standing watches that had “done my time.”

One junior LT, a GURL, commented loudly that “this is unfair!” I turned in my seat, and looked her in the eye and said words to the effect: “When you’ve got three years of sea duty behind you, standing 1 in 3 watch rotation, and I don’t mean days, I mean 4 hours on and 8 off, for months at a time, on the far side of the world, maybe you’ll see how spending the night on a base once every thirty days is pretty much a picnic.”

It got quiet. The meeting resumed, with direction from the Senior Watch Officer on implementation, and I don’t recall any more comments from any of the GURLs in the room before we dismissed.

I rolled off the watch bill after my next watch, not because of someone reported to the base, but because I was senior enough by lineal number to not have to do it any more. Net result: My lineal number saved me one duty day. I think that was the last time (and the first) my lineal number actually came into play in my career.

It sounds like a cute commercial, but it was real….on Rush on Monday of this week. The last three sentences are a keeper as a set:

Story #6: Wrecking Ball Snaps Loose, Wreaks Havoc

RUSH: By the way, imagine this. You’re walking along, minding your own business — you’re in Meadville, Pennsylvania — and all of a sudden, no, it’s not an airplane crashing into your sidewalk. A wrecking ball is rolling down the sidewalk in the street right at you! A 1500-pound, three-feet wide wrecking ball broke loose of a crane cable, rolled nearly a mile downhill. Imagine you’re out walking and you just hear this thing and you turn around and say, “Whoa! What is this?” It mashed more than a dozen vehicles, and it injured three people “as it bounced from curb to curb across the street, and slammed into the back of a car stopped at an intersection. That force caused a chain reaction with two other cars at the traffic light. The driver, an Allegheny college junior, said he thought a car had hit him when his back windshield exploded. The wrecking ball finally came to lest in the trunk of a car and pushed it nearly 20 feet.”

I want to know what kind of car has a trunk big enough to handle a 1500-pound wrecking ball. Well, it’s three feet wide. Ah, it’d probably fit in a Prius. Do Priuses have trunks, or is that where the battery is? I have no clue. “Workers had been using the wrecking ball to demolish part of a library at Allegheny College when the cable snapped.” Actually, you should have seen this: a whole bunch of people were running after this wrecking ball like crazy. They weren’t trying to stop it. They were trial lawyers throwing out business cards like confetti all over the place.

I’m sure some insurance agent is contemplating a new career right about now.

H/T: MJ Morning Show…

Need a blender that can hack it, even when the substance you put in it for that fancy dinner party is looking pretty tough?

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From BlendTecThe BlendTec guy was on the phone with MJ and said the YouTube videos all started when one employed said “let’s grind something up” and they videoed it. Put it on YouTube just for giggles and it got lots and lots of hits….So, yep, you guessed it, they made lots more, blending you all sorts of stuff: Golf balls, clubs, light bulbs, etc…

So, if you have a food processing task, or have an errant significant other/soon to be former spouse with stuff, this just may be the blender for you!