The holiday season has (understandably) effected attendance lately, on both sides of the aisle. But we forge on. Of late, I have been taking inventory of the hippies on scene. It appears that our original foes have lost much of their core group. Neither Danny nor Bongwater have been around lately, along with a few of their usual comrades. Great success! However, the code pinkos have filled their slots with another squad of "dissenters".
One of the new recruits of code pinko is a disensignistic (thanks for the new word, Tom!) loudmouth who rivals Danny in annoyance, but comes to the battle of wits with virtually no ammo. He merely stands opposite our group with a large upside down American flag and hurls poorly crafted insults which, on any elementary school playground, would send him running to teacher in tears from the retribution of many a third grader with a greater vocabulary than he, to include the dreaded "doodie head" moniker.
I have since dubbed him "Jennifer".
Jennifer was joined by a small thin man with a "murder, torture, rape" sign, protesting our troops. Jennifer informs me that this man is a real Marine, unlike myself (to quote him/her). Once again (I tire of this, click for more) I must disprove this attestation. "Where did you go to boot camp?"
A blank stare was the only reply. This is the easiest question to answer, with even the slightest knowledge of the Marine Corps. There are only two bases that operate in the capacity of "recruit training". One is Parris Island (where all of the best Marines were trained), and the other is San Diego (Hollywood Marines). Ha Ha, just kidding, bro's, you know the drill! But NO ONE forgets boot camp. My mother can tell you where I went to boot camp for crying out loud!
The "real Marine" kept his mouth shut, while Jennifer rambled on... "What was your serial number?" Reply..."your serial number is your social security number, and I'm not giving you that information." Well, to Jennifer's credit, the use of your SSN as your serial number is new since the sixties. But jeez, if you're going to use it in an argument, turn the page on your calendar once in a while, this is NOT Vietnam.
I was asked what unit I belonged to. No problem, I'll give you the whole nine yards... Charlie Company, 1st Battalion, 8th Marine regiment, 2nd Marine Division, 26th SOCMEU (Special Operation Capable Marine Expeditionary Unit) Fleet Marine Force Atlantic.
No further response from either agitator.
As we loaded our gear and chatted with friends, the "real" Marine approached. He queried "You were with the 26th MEU?" Reply, yes, sir." Response to reply..." they were a good outfit in Vietnam."
Well, The MEU designation was assigned in 1988 (WELL after Vietnam, in case you haven't turned the pages on your calendar, lately), Even going back to the origin of this unit (which was originally named the 36th MAU [Marine Amphibious unit] until re-designation in 1975, at the end of the war in Vietnam, but still not the 26th MEU by any stetch of the imagination. The "real Marine" walked away without so much as a "Semper Fi" or an "Oorah" or even a "you suck, Jar head".
It's so sad that the hippies must attempt to discredit the service of real veterans, while drumming up ignorant wannabes who will say that they are vets. As if a real vet, especially from one "Marine" to another could not immediately discern the ruse from the truth.
I apologize for the lengthy lesson on the history of USMC unit structure, but I feel that I must use this space to (once again) prove my point about the depths of depravity that our "holier than thou" nemeses will stoop to try to prove a point. This is exactly why we do what we do, here at Peace On You!
I have set up an account in the code pinko's meetup web page (look for "Steve") and actively debate them on line. If you would like to read some of the discussions, or wish to join in, here is a link...
http://codepink.meetup.com/42/
Expect only sporadic updates on OPOY until after the holiday season, but a new offensive is being planned for the new year (citing an anonymous source). God bless, and Merry Christmas!
Monday, December 8, 2008
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Veterans Day, 2008
In solemn rememberance of the fallen, in gratitude to those who have returned, and in unyielding support of our family still serving in Iraq, Afghanistan, and often forgotten operations in various theaters. We salute you.
My brother's girlfriend is currently stationed at Tikrit Air Base. She has a blog (which is listed in the blog roll on this page), but not a lot of access to updates. If anyone wishes to drop her a line to show how much her efforts are appreciated, link follows... http://jennysdeployment.blogspot.com/.
Thank you Ali. Thank you to all of your comrades in arms. May you all return home soon, with pride, honor, and accomplishment of your goals.
Operation Peace On You
My brother's girlfriend is currently stationed at Tikrit Air Base. She has a blog (which is listed in the blog roll on this page), but not a lot of access to updates. If anyone wishes to drop her a line to show how much her efforts are appreciated, link follows... http://jennysdeployment.blogspot.com/.
Thank you Ali. Thank you to all of your comrades in arms. May you all return home soon, with pride, honor, and accomplishment of your goals.
Operation Peace On You
Monday, November 10, 2008
On This Day
The following post digresses from my usual "cont-rol" of foul language. I normally try to make this page family friendly, but today is special. On this day, in the year of our Lord, 1775... A group of patriotic miscreants gathered in the halls of a beer garden, Tunn Tavern, to be exact ("Phillie".PA.) These brave men drank beer, and formed what would become the preeminent force of our future military presence.... The United States Marine Corps. Please join me in a toast to my brothers and sisters... past, present, and future. Happy Birthday, USMC.!
Mrs. America, and I will dine on the traditional meal, "surf and turf" (and beer). In an homage to the Amphibious nature of my "kin", I will eat, drink heavily, and salute Chesty Puller. Thank you for your solemn respect during this stage of necessary drunkenness! OOOH-Fucking-Rah!
Semper fi, The Cap.
Mrs. America, and I will dine on the traditional meal, "surf and turf" (and beer). In an homage to the Amphibious nature of my "kin", I will eat, drink heavily, and salute Chesty Puller. Thank you for your solemn respect during this stage of necessary drunkenness! OOOH-Fucking-Rah!
Semper fi, The Cap.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Weekly Update: 5 Nov. O8
Election day morning. I awake to gloomy skies and a slight nip in the air, despite the prognostication of "mostly sunny, and warm, a beautiful election day" by the local weather gurus. Cup of coffee in hand, Mrs. America and I venture to our polling station. Happy to say, no problems at our precinct, while we were there. The line crept, but steadily. We could have avoided the line all together by voting with an absentee ballot. But there's something about actually "pulling the lever" ON election day, that seems to enhance the feeling of civic duty; expression, and celebration of our freedoms that are anything but "free".
I reflect on the images from Afghanistan and Iraq of broadly grinning, first time voters emerging from their polls, holding up one ink stained finger as they head through the parking lot, back to their donkey carts for their miles long journey to their mud huts in some unspecific region of the vast deserts and mountains. Partly borne of pride, partly borne of a newly instilled sense of freedom, and with a barely noticeable sense of defiance. A glimmer somewhere in their eyes that says... "I have tasted democracy, and I will not relinquish it".
My finger is not purple, but I do receive the much coveted "I voted" sticker, and that same succulent aftertaste that lingers on your tongue after savoring a hot, juicy, steaming serving of liberty.
On this day, however, my serving of liberty would be slightly over-cooked. A little on the dry side.
The chilly, overcast atmosphere would remain throughout the day, and into the next. With the results from this election now evident, I wonder if we will see the sun again any time soon. Stories that I have heard regaled by former citizens of East Germany, and Poland (under communist rule) edge into the periphery of my mind. Their weather was always bleak. A pall cast over their entire climate (politically, socially, and environmentally), as a constant reminder of their oppression.
To dwell on my "loss" is an exercise in futility. I have bitched and moaned enough. I know that the only choice I have is to "suck it up" and forge ahead. It is for this reason that we return to Camp Edgewater. The core of our element is not at it's motivational apex, but we fight on.
As expected, the hippies gloat. That's O.K., though, they will soon learn the meaning of the term "buyers remorse". The peace creeps slightly outnumbered us this day. Most of their new supporters immediately chime in with nothing but insults, and poorly crafted ones at that. I actually enjoyed the tete-a-tete with the upside down flag waving, nescient, (expletive deleted) who decided to stand directly across the street from me, and dip his toe into the waters of "your Mamma" jokes. O.K., bud... here we go! I do so enjoy low brow battles of "wits". Thanks for cheering me up with your blatant ignorance and (albeit, childishly, enjoyable) confrontation. After he makes an unsolicited comment regarding Dick Cheney, I offered to take my new rival on a hunting trip with me and "Uncle Dick". He (less than politely) turned down the invitation. It was a bit of a chuckle when this particular agitator started attempting to use some of the jokes that I had already used on him. Is this a "redistribution of comedy? His jokes are not as funny as mine, so he should get to use some of my jokes against me? Well, in insults, and in comedy, the first one with the "zinger" wins. Unless, of course, your competitor develops a better product, and can out market you. It's a lesson in capitalism, using wit as currency. This particular hippie was "currency deprived" (just embracing the new PC world in which we celebrate).
On the surface, it would seem that it was a bad day for our unit. But we chose to stand our ground, and for that, we were rewarded. Our friend Theo has returned. I referred to him in last weeks update as "The Guy". I did this out of respect for his concern about being ostracized by his co-workers, who also travel the same route, and would surely see him supporting our side. Theo, however has concluded that he wants to stand up for what he believes in, and will not succumb to pressures from those who oppose him. He cites us as inspiration, but I must reciprocate. There have been brief moments in OPOY history, that I have become tired. I have never doubted our ability to wage this war on hippies, and I have never given contemplation to failure... just, occaisionally, tired. Every time that this feeling surfaced, so did an event to renew my vigor. Theo was the event this week, in the aftermath of the election. A fresh mind with fresh ideas, and his strong desire to act, have replaced my thoughts of the decision of the people, with new purpose.
Our mission was never about politics. Our mission has always been to support our troops with a display of actual support, and to counter the protests of our military, it's mission, our national symbols, and yes, even our way of life as we know it.
"Constant complaint is the poorest sort of pay for all the comforts we enjoy" - Benjamin Franklin
For all the comforts we enjoy ,due (solely) to the efforts, accomplishments, and miseries of our military, past and present, we will not complain. We will stand tall, man our lines, and continue to confront the complainers. I will not remove the "O" from my keyboard. I will not cede to the attitude that Americans cannot be successful without government assistance (case in point: B.O., [peace be upon him] himself). I will, however continue the battle at Camp Edgewater. I just wonder how long it will be before the peace creeps change their signs to "Obama lied... you know the rest."
I reflect on the images from Afghanistan and Iraq of broadly grinning, first time voters emerging from their polls, holding up one ink stained finger as they head through the parking lot, back to their donkey carts for their miles long journey to their mud huts in some unspecific region of the vast deserts and mountains. Partly borne of pride, partly borne of a newly instilled sense of freedom, and with a barely noticeable sense of defiance. A glimmer somewhere in their eyes that says... "I have tasted democracy, and I will not relinquish it".
My finger is not purple, but I do receive the much coveted "I voted" sticker, and that same succulent aftertaste that lingers on your tongue after savoring a hot, juicy, steaming serving of liberty.
On this day, however, my serving of liberty would be slightly over-cooked. A little on the dry side.
The chilly, overcast atmosphere would remain throughout the day, and into the next. With the results from this election now evident, I wonder if we will see the sun again any time soon. Stories that I have heard regaled by former citizens of East Germany, and Poland (under communist rule) edge into the periphery of my mind. Their weather was always bleak. A pall cast over their entire climate (politically, socially, and environmentally), as a constant reminder of their oppression.
To dwell on my "loss" is an exercise in futility. I have bitched and moaned enough. I know that the only choice I have is to "suck it up" and forge ahead. It is for this reason that we return to Camp Edgewater. The core of our element is not at it's motivational apex, but we fight on.
As expected, the hippies gloat. That's O.K., though, they will soon learn the meaning of the term "buyers remorse". The peace creeps slightly outnumbered us this day. Most of their new supporters immediately chime in with nothing but insults, and poorly crafted ones at that. I actually enjoyed the tete-a-tete with the upside down flag waving, nescient, (expletive deleted) who decided to stand directly across the street from me, and dip his toe into the waters of "your Mamma" jokes. O.K., bud... here we go! I do so enjoy low brow battles of "wits". Thanks for cheering me up with your blatant ignorance and (albeit, childishly, enjoyable) confrontation. After he makes an unsolicited comment regarding Dick Cheney, I offered to take my new rival on a hunting trip with me and "Uncle Dick". He (less than politely) turned down the invitation. It was a bit of a chuckle when this particular agitator started attempting to use some of the jokes that I had already used on him. Is this a "redistribution of comedy? His jokes are not as funny as mine, so he should get to use some of my jokes against me? Well, in insults, and in comedy, the first one with the "zinger" wins. Unless, of course, your competitor develops a better product, and can out market you. It's a lesson in capitalism, using wit as currency. This particular hippie was "currency deprived" (just embracing the new PC world in which we celebrate).
On the surface, it would seem that it was a bad day for our unit. But we chose to stand our ground, and for that, we were rewarded. Our friend Theo has returned. I referred to him in last weeks update as "The Guy". I did this out of respect for his concern about being ostracized by his co-workers, who also travel the same route, and would surely see him supporting our side. Theo, however has concluded that he wants to stand up for what he believes in, and will not succumb to pressures from those who oppose him. He cites us as inspiration, but I must reciprocate. There have been brief moments in OPOY history, that I have become tired. I have never doubted our ability to wage this war on hippies, and I have never given contemplation to failure... just, occaisionally, tired. Every time that this feeling surfaced, so did an event to renew my vigor. Theo was the event this week, in the aftermath of the election. A fresh mind with fresh ideas, and his strong desire to act, have replaced my thoughts of the decision of the people, with new purpose.
Our mission was never about politics. Our mission has always been to support our troops with a display of actual support, and to counter the protests of our military, it's mission, our national symbols, and yes, even our way of life as we know it.
"Constant complaint is the poorest sort of pay for all the comforts we enjoy" - Benjamin Franklin
For all the comforts we enjoy ,due (solely) to the efforts, accomplishments, and miseries of our military, past and present, we will not complain. We will stand tall, man our lines, and continue to confront the complainers. I will not remove the "O" from my keyboard. I will not cede to the attitude that Americans cannot be successful without government assistance (case in point: B.O., [peace be upon him] himself). I will, however continue the battle at Camp Edgewater. I just wonder how long it will be before the peace creeps change their signs to "Obama lied... you know the rest."
Saturday, November 1, 2008
Weekly Update: 29 Oct 08
Fresh from the "Moving Wall" escort (see the story here), a sense of pride swelling within us, Face Man and I prepare for the weekly fire fight at Camp Edgewater. The deuces roll out from HQ, and we're on our way. As I drive towards the event, I feel my anticipation grow. I cannot wait to show the McCain camp some love, and the hippies some disdain, by laying on the mighty horn of the deuce as we pass the lineup. To add insult to injury, the appearance of two deuces should really peeve the hippies, see the history of this battle on the 15 Oct update on our main page.
The stars are aligned in our direction. A group of "McCainiacs" is already firmly entrenched across the street from the hippies. As I suspected, there are some new members in the hippie camp... Obama supporters. Face and I round the corner. I release a war cry... "No B.O.!" The long blast of the deuce's air horn results in some funny episodes. The McCain camp recognizes me, and cheers us. The usual crowd of hippies cap their ears. The newcomers to the peace creep movement are unaware of our ongoing battle, and unaware of who I actually am. Some of them cheer (again... people in Florida are easily confused, especially the hippies). The newcomers think that we are honking for them, because of their "honk for peace" signs. After I don "the suit" and present my "honk if you smell better than a hippie" sign, they will soon realize their mistake.
As we pull into the parking lot of Camp Edgewater, we see Tom, American flag, and "America: humanities' best hope" sign in hand. Tom heard the puissant call of the deuce, and knew that we had arrived.
Dug in to our position, we await the impending incoming fire. I think back to the original article in the Times that mentioned the fact that the hippies used to gather further north, on U.S. 19., but had abandoned that post because people were throwing things at them, not excluded were bottles and rotten fruit. They thought that they could find safe haven in the confines of Dunedin (a supposedly more "tolerant" environment). Perhaps they were better off in their days of yore. Heh heh, sometimes I crack myself up! I love what we do!
Soon after our deployment, a "code pinko" moved to outflank us. The sign she is holding declares "war sucks McCain swallows" (Boy, that's clever) Her affront is well documented here, note the school bus full of children immediately behind her. These venomous purveyors of hate do not appreciate the sanctities of childhood and innocence. Do our children really need to be subject to this smut? As much as we would like to, (I am, however, guilty of this on occasion) we try to avoid using off color metaphors. But none of our signs are verbally offensive to children, or their parents. Unless,of course, their parents are pacifistic parasites of freedom who defame our nation's military, and the just war on radical Muslim extremists, that we are currently involved in, and impart these sentiments to their offspring.
As has become common, a few members of the McCain camp join us on our side of the street. One member is Mandy, whose husband has just returned from serving in Iraq. She stands next to the "code pinko" with her McCain sign, only to be assailed with verbiage from the "peace" activist... "B!^&#" is the least of the acrimonious terms she must endure. She approaches my fighting hole, scans through the signs that I have available for unprepared, yet enthusiastic, enlistees. She chooses the " Honk if you smell better than a hippie" sign. I delight in the fact that, throughout the course of the event, she repeatedly expresses her adoration for this sign. Later in the day, her husband drove past. Mandy was so enthusiastic. I revel in her pride for her husband, as this is why we do what we do. Support our troops. I hope that I get a chance to meet him and personally thank him some day. Both of you are more than welcome to join us in our weekly battle against the hippies.
Around this time, Mrs. America and Mel confront "Bong water". He has joined the "code pinko" on our flank. However we know from past experience that this man is weak, and is frightened by strong women (see 22 Oct update here) The McCain sign is placed at his feet by our sappers, and the effort is successful, he moves on.
Joe (from the McCain camp) clues me into a surprise guest. There is a woman who has bedecked her RV with pro McCain /Palin signage, and travels the I-4 corridor touting her support, and encouraging others to support, the presidential candidate. I had heard her on the "Glenn Beck" radio show, just this morning. She nestles her larger than life display directly across the street from the hippies, and joins in the fray.
The afternoon was punctuated by the appearance of "The Guy". He has been a regular supporter as he passes by in traffic, ever since the inception of our unit. The Guy joins us, and informs us that he cannot unite with us on a weekly basis, as he is employed by liberal fascists, and fears losing his job. This is a sad state of affairs, but one that we must fight by defeating the communist proposals of the Democrat candidate for this election. Welcome, friend. Glad you could finally gather with us.
The shadows from the trees have grown longer, engulfing us in the now darkened, and chilly environs. It is time to wrap up today's fire fight, and return to our respective CP's (command posts). The glares and gestures from the peace creeps who are loading their tripe ridden propaganda pieces into the tiny trunks of their prius' and VW's, signify another victory for our ever vigilant coalition.
The McCainiacs have been a tireless and stalwart fixture in the recent weeks running up to the election. They have decided to deploy to Camp Edgewater every afternoon at the same time, until election day. I must return to the job site in Kissimmee, but as soon as I return, I will impart my solidarity with our new friends, by joining their campaign. I hope that, after the election, these proud patriots will return to assist us in the ongoing efforts of Operation Peace On You.
The stars are aligned in our direction. A group of "McCainiacs" is already firmly entrenched across the street from the hippies. As I suspected, there are some new members in the hippie camp... Obama supporters. Face and I round the corner. I release a war cry... "No B.O.!" The long blast of the deuce's air horn results in some funny episodes. The McCain camp recognizes me, and cheers us. The usual crowd of hippies cap their ears. The newcomers to the peace creep movement are unaware of our ongoing battle, and unaware of who I actually am. Some of them cheer (again... people in Florida are easily confused, especially the hippies). The newcomers think that we are honking for them, because of their "honk for peace" signs. After I don "the suit" and present my "honk if you smell better than a hippie" sign, they will soon realize their mistake.
As we pull into the parking lot of Camp Edgewater, we see Tom, American flag, and "America: humanities' best hope" sign in hand. Tom heard the puissant call of the deuce, and knew that we had arrived.
Dug in to our position, we await the impending incoming fire. I think back to the original article in the Times that mentioned the fact that the hippies used to gather further north, on U.S. 19., but had abandoned that post because people were throwing things at them, not excluded were bottles and rotten fruit. They thought that they could find safe haven in the confines of Dunedin (a supposedly more "tolerant" environment). Perhaps they were better off in their days of yore. Heh heh, sometimes I crack myself up! I love what we do!
Soon after our deployment, a "code pinko" moved to outflank us. The sign she is holding declares "war sucks McCain swallows" (Boy, that's clever) Her affront is well documented here, note the school bus full of children immediately behind her. These venomous purveyors of hate do not appreciate the sanctities of childhood and innocence. Do our children really need to be subject to this smut? As much as we would like to, (I am, however, guilty of this on occasion) we try to avoid using off color metaphors. But none of our signs are verbally offensive to children, or their parents. Unless,of course, their parents are pacifistic parasites of freedom who defame our nation's military, and the just war on radical Muslim extremists, that we are currently involved in, and impart these sentiments to their offspring.
As has become common, a few members of the McCain camp join us on our side of the street. One member is Mandy, whose husband has just returned from serving in Iraq. She stands next to the "code pinko" with her McCain sign, only to be assailed with verbiage from the "peace" activist... "B!^&#" is the least of the acrimonious terms she must endure. She approaches my fighting hole, scans through the signs that I have available for unprepared, yet enthusiastic, enlistees. She chooses the " Honk if you smell better than a hippie" sign. I delight in the fact that, throughout the course of the event, she repeatedly expresses her adoration for this sign. Later in the day, her husband drove past. Mandy was so enthusiastic. I revel in her pride for her husband, as this is why we do what we do. Support our troops. I hope that I get a chance to meet him and personally thank him some day. Both of you are more than welcome to join us in our weekly battle against the hippies.
Around this time, Mrs. America and Mel confront "Bong water". He has joined the "code pinko" on our flank. However we know from past experience that this man is weak, and is frightened by strong women (see 22 Oct update here) The McCain sign is placed at his feet by our sappers, and the effort is successful, he moves on.
Joe (from the McCain camp) clues me into a surprise guest. There is a woman who has bedecked her RV with pro McCain /Palin signage, and travels the I-4 corridor touting her support, and encouraging others to support, the presidential candidate. I had heard her on the "Glenn Beck" radio show, just this morning. She nestles her larger than life display directly across the street from the hippies, and joins in the fray.
The afternoon was punctuated by the appearance of "The Guy". He has been a regular supporter as he passes by in traffic, ever since the inception of our unit. The Guy joins us, and informs us that he cannot unite with us on a weekly basis, as he is employed by liberal fascists, and fears losing his job. This is a sad state of affairs, but one that we must fight by defeating the communist proposals of the Democrat candidate for this election. Welcome, friend. Glad you could finally gather with us.
The shadows from the trees have grown longer, engulfing us in the now darkened, and chilly environs. It is time to wrap up today's fire fight, and return to our respective CP's (command posts). The glares and gestures from the peace creeps who are loading their tripe ridden propaganda pieces into the tiny trunks of their prius' and VW's, signify another victory for our ever vigilant coalition.
The McCainiacs have been a tireless and stalwart fixture in the recent weeks running up to the election. They have decided to deploy to Camp Edgewater every afternoon at the same time, until election day. I must return to the job site in Kissimmee, but as soon as I return, I will impart my solidarity with our new friends, by joining their campaign. I hope that, after the election, these proud patriots will return to assist us in the ongoing efforts of Operation Peace On You.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Weekly update: 22 Oct 08
We are currently facing a massive "hippie" onslaught, due to the upcoming election, so the situation is heated. Much to tell...
I was working out of town this week... going to have to miss out on the operation. This is one of the problems with battling the hippies, we have jobs (unless B.O. wins). The chances of my attendance this week were low. I don't know if it was a curse or a blessing, but the job we were on, needed 1 more day before General Judd and I could complete our assigned task. We would be returning to our respective CP's ( Command Posts... home) for 1 day before returning to the job. Well, this gives me time to piss of some hippies!
I quickly checked the Internet (as is my SOP... standard operating procedure) for local peace creep updates, to see if they have changed time or venue for their weekly assault on humanity as we know it in our great nation. It appears that the peace creeps have issued a "hippie call to arms" to face off against the "belligerent" McCain supporters. Copied text from their website follows...
Dunedin Peace CorneringEvery Wednesday 4:30-6:00 pmWinner of "Best of the Bay" by Creative Loafing for Best Weekly Protest!
Pro-war, John McCain supporters have been showing up lately -- obviously, their frustration level is growing due to the crashing war economy and the inevitable defeat of their presidential candidate. So, if you can make it out these next few weeks, that'd be great. If you have a video camera, that'd be nice, too (the McCain people are pretty belligerent). Join the demonstration every Wednesday, 4:30-6:00 pm, Edgewater Drive in front of the Marina Park in Dunedin (map). Bring your sign, or use one of ours. For more information contact Melissa or Kim.
It's a hackneyed and tired tactic to bring cameras, incite your opposition to violence, take video, and use the edited footage for your own propaganda. It won't work against us, hippies... we're on to you.
After reading their post, I knew that they were upset with the whole "McCain" thing. This is their weakness, and this is where I will strike. I attach a " McCain / Palin" sign to my "guidon" (My "flag"... ask a Marine, if you don't get it. If you don't know a Marine... you should .
I set up my fighting hole (the Army has "fox holes", but as I understand... foxes hide in their holes, hence the term... fox hole. Marines fight from their holes, hence the term... fighting hole. Sorry Army guys, I just can't resist the inter-service rivalry gags. I still show you love, brothers and sisters!
I set up in the exact same spot that I have been setting up in, for the past 15 months. A two man unit of peace creeps deploys in my direction, they split up. "Tough Guy" and "Bong Water" flank me on either side of my post. I fear not their maneuver, as I have dealt with their vitriol in the past, and this is nothing new. I call the one aggressor "Bong Water" because he sounds just like Tommy Chong, and actually looks a little bit like him, but without all of the "genius baggage" associated with Tommy Chong, and I once told him that he's not supposed to drink the bong water. "Tough Guy will earn his name soon.
I will post some of the more aggressive "challenges" that I have been victim to, on another page... stay tuned!
The hippies send out a "suicide bomber" to the McCain front. An elderly gentleman who seems to have trouble walking. He stands in the center of the McCain camp holding a large sign encouraging our retreat from Iraq. The McCain camp quickly sends the suicide bomber back to his coven of "Code Pinkos" and "St. Pete For Peace" creeps. The hippies have begun their attack.
I have brought along my McCain-Palin yard sign to help fend off the hippies, but one sign would not be enough. The McCain camp supplies me with additional ammo... about 6 more yard signs. I begin setting them in a line in a well spread pattern, essentially creating a mine field perimeter, impenetrable to peace creeps, which no hippie wants to be caught in, for fear that they may be viewed by the passersby as an evil conservative or a member of the vast right wing conspiracy.
I approached the challenger on my left flank (Tough Guy). I placed a satchel charge (McCain sign) directly in front of his feet. Tough Guy senses the impending detonation, and returns to the safety of his rank and file. Wow, these signs are like wolves bane!
Now to fend off the attack from my right flank... Bong Water. The satchel charge worked well in the first fire fight, I'll employ the same tactic again. Bong Water is more stubborn than Tough Guy, he merely steps in front of the sign. I move the sign in front of him again. He moves in front of the sign again. Bong Water quips "I can do this all day, man". "Well, so can I, man." It's childish, I know, but it's fun! Bong Water ups the ante. He rips my sign from the ground, throws it down, and lobs one of his verbal grenades "it's illegal to erect a permanent political sign on a public roadway". The grenade was a dud... again with the law.
(see "weekly update 15 Oct 08 " . Click here to see how our enemy attempts to violate our first amendment rights by using the local Sheriff's department for support. A surprisingly fascist approach for these so called "peace" lovers who incessantly declare our President a nazi. An astonishing amount of hypocracy.)
I inform my counterpart that this is not a permanent structure, it's a static display. And who are you anyway... Johnny Cochran? The contest continues, I replace the sign, he rips it out. After several volleys, I receive reinforcement. Jodie breaks ranks with her unit (the McCain camp) to back me up. American flag in one hand, McCain sign in the other, she joins the fire fight and takes the point so that I may return to my position. Bong Water is unable to defend himself against a strong woman, and retreats. However, Tough Guy resurfaces to take his place. Now is the time that Tough guy earns his nickname. He argues with Jodie for a short time, then bellows "If you were a guy, I'd kick your A*$!" before retreating again. Very peaceful, sir.
This will be an interesting battle. It is now after 1700 hrs (5:00PM), and the rest of OPOY arrives in rapid succession. Tom, Cutter, Mrs. America, Mel, Sam, Fred, and Brooklyn (who was still, understandably, upset about the 9/11 conspiracy freak (mentioned in the 15 oct update)with the upside down American flag on his sign, from last week ). Mel's banner reinforces the McCain minefield. Tough Guy does not appreciate Brooklyn's repeated passes on his Harley with the U.S. flag, and attempts yet another probe of our line. He passes in front of all of us with a vindictive stare. Mrs America takes aim and fires... "So you like to beat up women, hunh?... Tough Guy!" The well placed round dispatches the enemy to the end of our formation, and beyond. Brooklyn begins the "my sign in front of your sign" game. I thought that they would go all the way to Clearwater Beach, until Tough Guy redeployed to the other side of the street, about 50 meters south of the entire battlefield. Brooklyn returned, hopped on his bike, and began another victorious parade in front of the battle line.
Jodie has remained in our formation, but her daughter (12 yrs. old) was still holding ground with the rest of the McCain Camp. One of the hippies (haven't really come up with a good name for him yet. For now, we'll call him "Baby Killer") takes on a "one on one" confrontation with Jodie's daughter. Due to the traffic noise, it is hard to decipher the entire argument, but it ended with her "sniper round" reply... "I'm only 12, and I'm smarter than you!... " Nice shot!"
An Obama supporter wielding a "change" sign, attempts to infiltrate our ranks. She begins her onslaught by facing off with Brooklyn, and calling him an "old white guy". Well, this chick is whiter than a fish belly, and remembers the downfall of the buggy whip and gas lamp industry, so what's her point? Mrs. America pointed out the beauty of this pathetic assault, the fact that she ("Fish Belly") had (on the reverse side if her Obama sign) a hand drawn slogan... "imagine (and then the "peace symbol)", but she had not carried the vertical line to the bottom of the circle, so she had effectively drawn a Mercedes Benz logo. Her ignorance had provided us with great laughter, and we asked her if she thought that Obama would give everyone who didn't already have one, a Mercedes. From each according to his ability, to each according to his needs. And we all need a Mercedes!
The sun was beginning its evening performance. Soon the horizon would be ablaze with a host of brilliant colors and back lit clouds. It was time to succumb to the waning traffic. We load up our gear and head to the parking lot. As we chat with old friends, and make some new ones, "Baby Killer" approaches his vehicle. He somehow cannot resist squeezing off one more round at his wily 12 year old antagonist. This after action threat was met with a barrage of fire from our triumphant unit... "why don't you pick on someone your own size", "If you're trying to start a battle of wits, maybe you should set your sights a little lower than a 12 year old girl!" A menacing glare from the hippie as he retreats to lick his wounds, and ponder his verbiage for his next fire fight with the young lass.
Another successful mission.
As a side note, I want to thank the McCain camp for the assistance in the past few weeks. I also would like you to continue to join us weekly, after the election. Our original mission is to face off against the anti-American supporters of defeat in the war on terror, and as soon as the election is over, we will return to that mission and invite your continued support. I have a gut feeling that our enemy will be joined by Obama supporters this week. We need ALL hands on deck this week. The time and day will be the same, Wednesday from 4:30 until 6:00. Please bring friends. A map to our location can be found here.
I'm Captain America, and I approved this message.
I was working out of town this week... going to have to miss out on the operation. This is one of the problems with battling the hippies, we have jobs (unless B.O. wins). The chances of my attendance this week were low. I don't know if it was a curse or a blessing, but the job we were on, needed 1 more day before General Judd and I could complete our assigned task. We would be returning to our respective CP's ( Command Posts... home) for 1 day before returning to the job. Well, this gives me time to piss of some hippies!
I quickly checked the Internet (as is my SOP... standard operating procedure) for local peace creep updates, to see if they have changed time or venue for their weekly assault on humanity as we know it in our great nation. It appears that the peace creeps have issued a "hippie call to arms" to face off against the "belligerent" McCain supporters. Copied text from their website follows...
Dunedin Peace CorneringEvery Wednesday 4:30-6:00 pmWinner of "Best of the Bay" by Creative Loafing for Best Weekly Protest!
Pro-war, John McCain supporters have been showing up lately -- obviously, their frustration level is growing due to the crashing war economy and the inevitable defeat of their presidential candidate. So, if you can make it out these next few weeks, that'd be great. If you have a video camera, that'd be nice, too (the McCain people are pretty belligerent). Join the demonstration every Wednesday, 4:30-6:00 pm, Edgewater Drive in front of the Marina Park in Dunedin (map). Bring your sign, or use one of ours. For more information contact Melissa or Kim.
It's a hackneyed and tired tactic to bring cameras, incite your opposition to violence, take video, and use the edited footage for your own propaganda. It won't work against us, hippies... we're on to you.
After reading their post, I knew that they were upset with the whole "McCain" thing. This is their weakness, and this is where I will strike. I attach a " McCain / Palin" sign to my "guidon" (My "flag"... ask a Marine, if you don't get it. If you don't know a Marine... you should .
I set up my fighting hole (the Army has "fox holes", but as I understand... foxes hide in their holes, hence the term... fox hole. Marines fight from their holes, hence the term... fighting hole. Sorry Army guys, I just can't resist the inter-service rivalry gags. I still show you love, brothers and sisters!
I set up in the exact same spot that I have been setting up in, for the past 15 months. A two man unit of peace creeps deploys in my direction, they split up. "Tough Guy" and "Bong Water" flank me on either side of my post. I fear not their maneuver, as I have dealt with their vitriol in the past, and this is nothing new. I call the one aggressor "Bong Water" because he sounds just like Tommy Chong, and actually looks a little bit like him, but without all of the "genius baggage" associated with Tommy Chong, and I once told him that he's not supposed to drink the bong water. "Tough Guy will earn his name soon.
I will post some of the more aggressive "challenges" that I have been victim to, on another page... stay tuned!
The hippies send out a "suicide bomber" to the McCain front. An elderly gentleman who seems to have trouble walking. He stands in the center of the McCain camp holding a large sign encouraging our retreat from Iraq. The McCain camp quickly sends the suicide bomber back to his coven of "Code Pinkos" and "St. Pete For Peace" creeps. The hippies have begun their attack.
I have brought along my McCain-Palin yard sign to help fend off the hippies, but one sign would not be enough. The McCain camp supplies me with additional ammo... about 6 more yard signs. I begin setting them in a line in a well spread pattern, essentially creating a mine field perimeter, impenetrable to peace creeps, which no hippie wants to be caught in, for fear that they may be viewed by the passersby as an evil conservative or a member of the vast right wing conspiracy.
I approached the challenger on my left flank (Tough Guy). I placed a satchel charge (McCain sign) directly in front of his feet. Tough Guy senses the impending detonation, and returns to the safety of his rank and file. Wow, these signs are like wolves bane!
Now to fend off the attack from my right flank... Bong Water. The satchel charge worked well in the first fire fight, I'll employ the same tactic again. Bong Water is more stubborn than Tough Guy, he merely steps in front of the sign. I move the sign in front of him again. He moves in front of the sign again. Bong Water quips "I can do this all day, man". "Well, so can I, man." It's childish, I know, but it's fun! Bong Water ups the ante. He rips my sign from the ground, throws it down, and lobs one of his verbal grenades "it's illegal to erect a permanent political sign on a public roadway". The grenade was a dud... again with the law.
(see "weekly update 15 Oct 08 " . Click here to see how our enemy attempts to violate our first amendment rights by using the local Sheriff's department for support. A surprisingly fascist approach for these so called "peace" lovers who incessantly declare our President a nazi. An astonishing amount of hypocracy.)
I inform my counterpart that this is not a permanent structure, it's a static display. And who are you anyway... Johnny Cochran? The contest continues, I replace the sign, he rips it out. After several volleys, I receive reinforcement. Jodie breaks ranks with her unit (the McCain camp) to back me up. American flag in one hand, McCain sign in the other, she joins the fire fight and takes the point so that I may return to my position. Bong Water is unable to defend himself against a strong woman, and retreats. However, Tough Guy resurfaces to take his place. Now is the time that Tough guy earns his nickname. He argues with Jodie for a short time, then bellows "If you were a guy, I'd kick your A*$!" before retreating again. Very peaceful, sir.
This will be an interesting battle. It is now after 1700 hrs (5:00PM), and the rest of OPOY arrives in rapid succession. Tom, Cutter, Mrs. America, Mel, Sam, Fred, and Brooklyn (who was still, understandably, upset about the 9/11 conspiracy freak (mentioned in the 15 oct update)with the upside down American flag on his sign, from last week ). Mel's banner reinforces the McCain minefield. Tough Guy does not appreciate Brooklyn's repeated passes on his Harley with the U.S. flag, and attempts yet another probe of our line. He passes in front of all of us with a vindictive stare. Mrs America takes aim and fires... "So you like to beat up women, hunh?... Tough Guy!" The well placed round dispatches the enemy to the end of our formation, and beyond. Brooklyn begins the "my sign in front of your sign" game. I thought that they would go all the way to Clearwater Beach, until Tough Guy redeployed to the other side of the street, about 50 meters south of the entire battlefield. Brooklyn returned, hopped on his bike, and began another victorious parade in front of the battle line.
Jodie has remained in our formation, but her daughter (12 yrs. old) was still holding ground with the rest of the McCain Camp. One of the hippies (haven't really come up with a good name for him yet. For now, we'll call him "Baby Killer") takes on a "one on one" confrontation with Jodie's daughter. Due to the traffic noise, it is hard to decipher the entire argument, but it ended with her "sniper round" reply... "I'm only 12, and I'm smarter than you!... " Nice shot!"
An Obama supporter wielding a "change" sign, attempts to infiltrate our ranks. She begins her onslaught by facing off with Brooklyn, and calling him an "old white guy". Well, this chick is whiter than a fish belly, and remembers the downfall of the buggy whip and gas lamp industry, so what's her point? Mrs. America pointed out the beauty of this pathetic assault, the fact that she ("Fish Belly") had (on the reverse side if her Obama sign) a hand drawn slogan... "imagine (and then the "peace symbol)", but she had not carried the vertical line to the bottom of the circle, so she had effectively drawn a Mercedes Benz logo. Her ignorance had provided us with great laughter, and we asked her if she thought that Obama would give everyone who didn't already have one, a Mercedes. From each according to his ability, to each according to his needs. And we all need a Mercedes!
The sun was beginning its evening performance. Soon the horizon would be ablaze with a host of brilliant colors and back lit clouds. It was time to succumb to the waning traffic. We load up our gear and head to the parking lot. As we chat with old friends, and make some new ones, "Baby Killer" approaches his vehicle. He somehow cannot resist squeezing off one more round at his wily 12 year old antagonist. This after action threat was met with a barrage of fire from our triumphant unit... "why don't you pick on someone your own size", "If you're trying to start a battle of wits, maybe you should set your sights a little lower than a 12 year old girl!" A menacing glare from the hippie as he retreats to lick his wounds, and ponder his verbiage for his next fire fight with the young lass.
Another successful mission.
As a side note, I want to thank the McCain camp for the assistance in the past few weeks. I also would like you to continue to join us weekly, after the election. Our original mission is to face off against the anti-American supporters of defeat in the war on terror, and as soon as the election is over, we will return to that mission and invite your continued support. I have a gut feeling that our enemy will be joined by Obama supporters this week. We need ALL hands on deck this week. The time and day will be the same, Wednesday from 4:30 until 6:00. Please bring friends. A map to our location can be found here.
I'm Captain America, and I approved this message.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Weekly update 15 Oct 08
We were short handed this week, but the McCain supporters again gave us a boost. Brooklyn was in rare form, though! I just love watching him make repeated passes in front of the lineup on his Harley with the large American flag flying proudly behind him. There's something about Old Glory that just infuriates the hippies. Apparently a local resident was also none too happy with the noise from the Harley, he got in Brooklyn's face. Mrs America quickly broke up the dog fight and sent the complainer on his way.
A teen aged peace creep had a sign with an upside down American flag on it. His pathetic wisp of a "beard" and "9/11 is an inside job" hat belied his claims of being a disgruntled republican (once again, the peace creeps' traditional ploy that I have covered in the past. click here for details.). His attempt to validate this abominable display of our nations symbol not only fell on deaf ears, but was also as factually incorrect as the rest of his "straight from the classroom of a strip mall community college" arguments.
As Face man pulled up in the deuce, he blasts the horn. The hippies were dropping their "we hate America" signs, pained expressions on their faces and hands clapped tightly to their heads, as if to keep the blood from spurting from ruptured ear drums.
The days mission complete, we adjourn to the parking lot. 2 Sheriff's deputies awaited us. It appears that the hippies have called them to report that the deuce did not have a license plate. Face Man informs the deputies that the law states that the plates are not required to be displayed due to military preservation society statutes. The proper paperwork is shown, we all laugh as the hippies glared on, obviously angered by the fact that they could not suppress our rights and freedoms.
Another successful mission.
A teen aged peace creep had a sign with an upside down American flag on it. His pathetic wisp of a "beard" and "9/11 is an inside job" hat belied his claims of being a disgruntled republican (once again, the peace creeps' traditional ploy that I have covered in the past. click here for details.). His attempt to validate this abominable display of our nations symbol not only fell on deaf ears, but was also as factually incorrect as the rest of his "straight from the classroom of a strip mall community college" arguments.
As Face man pulled up in the deuce, he blasts the horn. The hippies were dropping their "we hate America" signs, pained expressions on their faces and hands clapped tightly to their heads, as if to keep the blood from spurting from ruptured ear drums.
The days mission complete, we adjourn to the parking lot. 2 Sheriff's deputies awaited us. It appears that the hippies have called them to report that the deuce did not have a license plate. Face Man informs the deputies that the law states that the plates are not required to be displayed due to military preservation society statutes. The proper paperwork is shown, we all laugh as the hippies glared on, obviously angered by the fact that they could not suppress our rights and freedoms.
Another successful mission.
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