I have been following the drama from Pinellas Park. This is a tragedy for more than two families who are at opposite poles as far as their wishes concerning the outcome. True facts are largely missing since no recent, up to date diagnostic tests have been allowed. The judiciary and the original doctors do not wish to find out if their original opinions could perhaps be wrong if there is some awareness and cerebral ability left.These two families have their supporters and polls have been taken to determine what the "so called majority" of Americans believe about the right to die. The need for living wills are often mentioned along with the fact that people do change their minds as to what the outcome of serious illness/injury they ultimately want.
If this healthy young woman is truly brain dead with a totally flat EEG, she would be a perfect donor given her relative health and young age. Many families could see their loved ones survive life threatening illness if given a functioning, healthy kidney, liver, heart and lungs, and even an improved life by restoration of vision due to a healthy cornea. I have not heard anyone protesting allowing these organs to die in order to help others. One wants the finality of death to end a marriage so he can continue on with his life and perhaps legitimize his common law marriage and children. His recall of his wife's wishes seven years after the prolongation of her life seem dubious to me since so much time passed before these wishes were announced. The other family wants the young woman to live in her current state rather than let her go home to her Lord.
As a person who received the gift of a cornea from a young woman who died. and the aunt of a young woman married to a man who will die if a heart transplant is not found in time, I can only think of those who were so selfless as to sign a donor card. I do not wish to lose my own son, but I am thankful he signed a living will many years ago and we have discussed his wishes as to organ donation. At my age, my organs are no longer desirable for transplant, but if there is a use for any part of my body that could benefit others, I would much rather the organs be harvested and less thought about maintaining a body that no longer functions as it has over my lifetime.
I am sad for Teri, her immediate family and even for the husband who either subverted his wife's wishes years ago or is doing so now. I am however even more sad for
the patients who will die waiting for organs that are currently undergoing failure because of the letter of the law being followed with no true judicial review except that procedures were followed correctly and the needs of all involved with the outcome to the dying individual. While Teri's parents would suffer the loss of their daughter even if she had been an organ donor, her death would not be as meaningless as it currently is.
Tuesday, March 29, 2005
Sunday, March 13, 2005
Just Ask Permission
Just Ask Permission
By Tom Adkins
Does the First Amendment give us the right to desecrate the American
flag? Or is the flag a sacred symbol of our nation, deserving protection by
law? Tough call?
I've got the solution.
For those who want to light Old Glory on fire, stomp all over it or
spit on it to make some sort of "statement," I say let them do it. But
under one condition: They must get permission.
First, you need permission of a war veteran. Perhaps a marine who
fought at Iwo Jima?
The American flag was raised over Mount Surabachi upon the bodies of
thousands of dead buddies. Each night on Iwo meant half of everyone you
knew would be dead tomorrow, a coin flip away from a bloody end upon a patch
of sand your mother couldn't find on a map.
Or maybe ask a Vietnam vet who spent tortured years in a small, filthy
cell unfit for a dog. Or a Korean War soldier who rescued half a nation
from communism, or a Desert Storm warrior who repulsed a bloody dictator
from raping and pillaging an innocent country.
That flag represented your mother and father, your sister and brother,
your friends, neighbors and everyone at home.
I wonder what they would say if someone asked their permission to burn
the American flag?
Next, ask an immigrant. Their brothers and sisters may still languish
in their native land, often under tyranny, poverty and misery. Maybe they
died on the way here, never to touch our shores. Some have seen friends and
family get tortured and murdered by their own government for daring to do
things we take for granted.
For those who risked everything simply for the chance to become an
American . . . what feelings do they have for the flag when they pledge
allegiance the first time? Go to a naturalization ceremony and see for
yourself the tears of pride, the thanks, the love and respect of this nation
as they finally embrace the American flag as their own.
Ask one of them if it would be okay to tear up the flag.
Last, you should ask a mother. Not just any mother, but a mother who
gave a son or daughter for America. It doesn't even have to be in war. It
could be a cop. A fireman. Maybe a Secret Service agent. Then again, it
could be a common foot soldier. When that son or daughter is laid to rest,
their family is given one gift by the American people: an American flag.
Go on. I dare you. Ask that mother to spit on her flag.
I wonder what the founding fathers thought of the American flag as they
drafted the Declaration of Independence? They knew this act would drag
young America into war with England, the greatest power on Earth. They also
knew failure meant more than disappointment. It meant a noose snugly
stretched around their necks. But they needed a symbol, something to
inspire the new nation. Something to represent the serious purpose and
conviction we held for our new idea of individual freedom. Something worth
living for. Something worth dying for. I wonder how they'd feel if someone
asked them permission to toss their flag in a mud puddle?
Away from family, away from the precious shores of home, in the face of
overwhelming odds and often in the face of death, the American flag inspires
those who believe in the American dream, the American promise, the American
vision. . . .
Americans who don't appreciate the flag don't appreciate this nation.
And those who appreciate this nation appreciate the American flag. Those
who fought, fought for that flag. Those who died, died for that flag. And
those who love America, love that flag. And defend it.
So if you want to desecrate the American flag, before you spit on it or
before you burn it . . . I have a simple request. Just ask permission. Not
from the Constitution. Not from some obscure law. Not from the politicians
or the pundits. Instead, ask those who defended our nation so that we may
be free today. Ask those who struggled to reach our shores so that they may
join us in the American dream. And ask those who clutch a flag in place of
their sacrificed sons and daughters, given to this nation so that others may
be free. For we cannot ask permission from those who died wishing they
could, just once . . . or once again . . . see, touch or kiss the flag that
stands for our nation, the United States of America . . . the greatest
nation on Earth.
By Tom Adkins
Does the First Amendment give us the right to desecrate the American
flag? Or is the flag a sacred symbol of our nation, deserving protection by
law? Tough call?
I've got the solution.
For those who want to light Old Glory on fire, stomp all over it or
spit on it to make some sort of "statement," I say let them do it. But
under one condition: They must get permission.
First, you need permission of a war veteran. Perhaps a marine who
fought at Iwo Jima?
The American flag was raised over Mount Surabachi upon the bodies of
thousands of dead buddies. Each night on Iwo meant half of everyone you
knew would be dead tomorrow, a coin flip away from a bloody end upon a patch
of sand your mother couldn't find on a map.
Or maybe ask a Vietnam vet who spent tortured years in a small, filthy
cell unfit for a dog. Or a Korean War soldier who rescued half a nation
from communism, or a Desert Storm warrior who repulsed a bloody dictator
from raping and pillaging an innocent country.
That flag represented your mother and father, your sister and brother,
your friends, neighbors and everyone at home.
I wonder what they would say if someone asked their permission to burn
the American flag?
Next, ask an immigrant. Their brothers and sisters may still languish
in their native land, often under tyranny, poverty and misery. Maybe they
died on the way here, never to touch our shores. Some have seen friends and
family get tortured and murdered by their own government for daring to do
things we take for granted.
For those who risked everything simply for the chance to become an
American . . . what feelings do they have for the flag when they pledge
allegiance the first time? Go to a naturalization ceremony and see for
yourself the tears of pride, the thanks, the love and respect of this nation
as they finally embrace the American flag as their own.
Ask one of them if it would be okay to tear up the flag.
Last, you should ask a mother. Not just any mother, but a mother who
gave a son or daughter for America. It doesn't even have to be in war. It
could be a cop. A fireman. Maybe a Secret Service agent. Then again, it
could be a common foot soldier. When that son or daughter is laid to rest,
their family is given one gift by the American people: an American flag.
Go on. I dare you. Ask that mother to spit on her flag.
I wonder what the founding fathers thought of the American flag as they
drafted the Declaration of Independence? They knew this act would drag
young America into war with England, the greatest power on Earth. They also
knew failure meant more than disappointment. It meant a noose snugly
stretched around their necks. But they needed a symbol, something to
inspire the new nation. Something to represent the serious purpose and
conviction we held for our new idea of individual freedom. Something worth
living for. Something worth dying for. I wonder how they'd feel if someone
asked them permission to toss their flag in a mud puddle?
Away from family, away from the precious shores of home, in the face of
overwhelming odds and often in the face of death, the American flag inspires
those who believe in the American dream, the American promise, the American
vision. . . .
Americans who don't appreciate the flag don't appreciate this nation.
And those who appreciate this nation appreciate the American flag. Those
who fought, fought for that flag. Those who died, died for that flag. And
those who love America, love that flag. And defend it.
So if you want to desecrate the American flag, before you spit on it or
before you burn it . . . I have a simple request. Just ask permission. Not
from the Constitution. Not from some obscure law. Not from the politicians
or the pundits. Instead, ask those who defended our nation so that we may
be free today. Ask those who struggled to reach our shores so that they may
join us in the American dream. And ask those who clutch a flag in place of
their sacrificed sons and daughters, given to this nation so that others may
be free. For we cannot ask permission from those who died wishing they
could, just once . . . or once again . . . see, touch or kiss the flag that
stands for our nation, the United States of America . . . the greatest
nation on Earth.
The Holy Alphabet
Although things are not perfect
Because of trial or pain
Continue in thanksgiving
Do not begin to blame
Even when the times are hard
Fierce winds are bound to blow
God is forever able
Hold on to what you know
Imagine life without His love
J oy would cease to be
Keep thanking Him for all the things
Love imparts to thee
Move out of "Camp Complaining"
No weapon that is known
On earth can yield the power
Praise can do alone
Quit looking at the future
Redeem the time at hand
Start every day with worship
To "thank" is a command
Until we see Him coming
Victorious in the sky
We'll run the race with gratitude
X alting God most high
Y es, there'll be good times and yes some will be bad, but...
Z ion waits in glory...where none are ever sad!
"I AM Too blessed to be stressed!" The shortest distance between a problem and a solution is the distance between your knees and the floor.
The one who kneels to the Lord can stand up to anything. Love and peace be with you forever, Amen.
Because of trial or pain
Continue in thanksgiving
Do not begin to blame
Even when the times are hard
Fierce winds are bound to blow
God is forever able
Hold on to what you know
Imagine life without His love
J oy would cease to be
Keep thanking Him for all the things
Love imparts to thee
Move out of "Camp Complaining"
No weapon that is known
On earth can yield the power
Praise can do alone
Quit looking at the future
Redeem the time at hand
Start every day with worship
To "thank" is a command
Until we see Him coming
Victorious in the sky
We'll run the race with gratitude
X alting God most high
Y es, there'll be good times and yes some will be bad, but...
Z ion waits in glory...where none are ever sad!
"I AM Too blessed to be stressed!" The shortest distance between a problem and a solution is the distance between your knees and the floor.
The one who kneels to the Lord can stand up to anything. Love and peace be with you forever, Amen.
Saturday, March 12, 2005
What Percentage Do You Give?
From a strictly mathematical viewpoint it goes like this:
What Makes 100%? What does it mean to give MORE than 100%? Ever wonder about those people who say they are giving more than 100%? We have all been to those meetings where someone wants you to give over 100%. How about achieving 103%? What makes up 100% in life?
Here's a little mathematical formula that might help you answer these questions:
If:
A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
is represented as:
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26.
Then:
H-A-R-D-W-O-R-K
8+1+18+4+23+15+18+11 = 98%
and
K-N-O-W-L-E-D-G-E
11+! 14+15+23+ 12+5+4+7+5 = 96%
But,
A-T-T-I-T-U-D-E
1+20+20+9+20+21+4+5 = 100%
And,
B-U-L-L-S-H-I-T
2+21+12+12+19+8+9+20 = 103%
AND, look how far ass kissing will take you.
A-S-S-K-I-S-S-I-N-G
1+19+19+11+9+19+19+9+14+7 = 118%
So, one can conclude with mathematical certainty that While Hard work and Knowledge will get you close, and Attitude will get you there, it's the Bullshit and Ass kissing that will put you over the top .
What Makes 100%? What does it mean to give MORE than 100%? Ever wonder about those people who say they are giving more than 100%? We have all been to those meetings where someone wants you to give over 100%. How about achieving 103%? What makes up 100% in life?
Here's a little mathematical formula that might help you answer these questions:
If:
A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
is represented as:
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26.
Then:
H-A-R-D-W-O-R-K
8+1+18+4+23+15+18+11 = 98%
and
K-N-O-W-L-E-D-G-E
11+! 14+15+23+ 12+5+4+7+5 = 96%
But,
A-T-T-I-T-U-D-E
1+20+20+9+20+21+4+5 = 100%
And,
B-U-L-L-S-H-I-T
2+21+12+12+19+8+9+20 = 103%
AND, look how far ass kissing will take you.
A-S-S-K-I-S-S-I-N-G
1+19+19+11+9+19+19+9+14+7 = 118%
So, one can conclude with mathematical certainty that While Hard work and Knowledge will get you close, and Attitude will get you there, it's the Bullshit and Ass kissing that will put you over the top .
Wednesday, March 09, 2005
Just Ask Permission
Just Ask Permission
By Tom Adkins
Does the First Amendment give us the right to desecrate the American
flag? Or is the flag a sacred symbol of our nation, deserving protection by
law? Tough call?
I've got the solution.
For those who want to light Old Glory on fire, stomp all over it or
spit on it to make some sort of "statement," I say let them do it. But
under one condition: They must get permission.
First, you need permission of a war veteran. Perhaps a marine who
fought at Iwo Jima?
The American flag was raised over Mount Surabachi upon the bodies of
thousands of dead buddies. Each night on Iwo meant half of everyone you
knew would be dead tomorrow, a coin flip away from a bloody end upon a patch
of sand your mother couldn't find on a map.
Or maybe ask a Vietnam vet who spent tortured years in a small, filthy
cell unfit for a dog. Or a Korean War soldier who rescued half a nation
from communism, or a Desert Storm warrior who repulsed a bloody dictator
from raping and pillaging an innocent country.
That flag represented your mother and father, your sister and brother,
your friends, neighbors and everyone at home.
I wonder what they would say if someone asked their permission to burn
the American flag?
Next, ask an immigrant. Their brothers and sisters may still languish
in their native land, often under tyranny, poverty and misery. Maybe they
died on the way here, never to touch our shores. Some have seen friends and
family get tortured and murdered by their own government for daring to do
things we take for granted.
For those who risked everything simply for the chance to become an
American . . . what feelings do they have for the flag when they pledge
allegiance the first time? Go to a naturalization ceremony and see for
yourself the tears of pride, the thanks, the love and respect of this nation
as they finally embrace the American flag as their own.
Ask one of them if it would be okay to tear up the flag.
Last, you should ask a mother. Not just any mother, but a mother who
gave a son or daughter for America. It doesn't even have to be in war. It
could be a cop. A fireman. Maybe a Secret Service agent. Then again, it
could be a common foot soldier. When that son or daughter is laid to rest,
their family is given one gift by the American people: an American flag.
Go on. I dare you. Ask that mother to spit on her flag.
I wonder what the founding fathers thought of the American flag as they
drafted the Declaration of Independence? They knew this act would drag
young America into war with England, the greatest power on Earth. They also
knew failure meant more than disappointment. It meant a noose snugly
stretched around their necks. But they needed a symbol, something to
inspire the new nation. Something to represent the serious purpose and
conviction we held for our new idea of individual freedom. Something worth
living for. Something worth dying for. I wonder how they'd feel if someone
asked them permission to toss their flag in a mud puddle?
Away from family, away from the precious shores of home, in the face of
overwhelming odds and often in the face of death, the American flag inspires
those who believe in the American dream, the American promise, the American
vision. . . .
Americans who don't appreciate the flag don't appreciate this nation.
And those who appreciate this nation appreciate the American flag. Those
who fought, fought for that flag. Those who died, died for that flag. And
those who love America, love that flag. And defend it.
So if you want to desecrate the American flag, before you spit on it or
before you burn it . . . I have a simple request. Just ask permission. Not
from the Constitution. Not from some obscure law. Not from the politicians
or the pundits. Instead, ask those who defended our nation so that we may
be free today. Ask those who struggled to reach our shores so that they may
join us in the American dream. And ask those who clutch a flag in place of
their sacrificed sons and daughters, given to this nation so that others may
be free. For we cannot ask permission from those who died wishing they
could, just once . . . or once again . . . see, touch or kiss the flag that
stands for our nation, the United States of America . . . the greatest
nation on Earth.
By Tom Adkins
Does the First Amendment give us the right to desecrate the American
flag? Or is the flag a sacred symbol of our nation, deserving protection by
law? Tough call?
I've got the solution.
For those who want to light Old Glory on fire, stomp all over it or
spit on it to make some sort of "statement," I say let them do it. But
under one condition: They must get permission.
First, you need permission of a war veteran. Perhaps a marine who
fought at Iwo Jima?
The American flag was raised over Mount Surabachi upon the bodies of
thousands of dead buddies. Each night on Iwo meant half of everyone you
knew would be dead tomorrow, a coin flip away from a bloody end upon a patch
of sand your mother couldn't find on a map.
Or maybe ask a Vietnam vet who spent tortured years in a small, filthy
cell unfit for a dog. Or a Korean War soldier who rescued half a nation
from communism, or a Desert Storm warrior who repulsed a bloody dictator
from raping and pillaging an innocent country.
That flag represented your mother and father, your sister and brother,
your friends, neighbors and everyone at home.
I wonder what they would say if someone asked their permission to burn
the American flag?
Next, ask an immigrant. Their brothers and sisters may still languish
in their native land, often under tyranny, poverty and misery. Maybe they
died on the way here, never to touch our shores. Some have seen friends and
family get tortured and murdered by their own government for daring to do
things we take for granted.
For those who risked everything simply for the chance to become an
American . . . what feelings do they have for the flag when they pledge
allegiance the first time? Go to a naturalization ceremony and see for
yourself the tears of pride, the thanks, the love and respect of this nation
as they finally embrace the American flag as their own.
Ask one of them if it would be okay to tear up the flag.
Last, you should ask a mother. Not just any mother, but a mother who
gave a son or daughter for America. It doesn't even have to be in war. It
could be a cop. A fireman. Maybe a Secret Service agent. Then again, it
could be a common foot soldier. When that son or daughter is laid to rest,
their family is given one gift by the American people: an American flag.
Go on. I dare you. Ask that mother to spit on her flag.
I wonder what the founding fathers thought of the American flag as they
drafted the Declaration of Independence? They knew this act would drag
young America into war with England, the greatest power on Earth. They also
knew failure meant more than disappointment. It meant a noose snugly
stretched around their necks. But they needed a symbol, something to
inspire the new nation. Something to represent the serious purpose and
conviction we held for our new idea of individual freedom. Something worth
living for. Something worth dying for. I wonder how they'd feel if someone
asked them permission to toss their flag in a mud puddle?
Away from family, away from the precious shores of home, in the face of
overwhelming odds and often in the face of death, the American flag inspires
those who believe in the American dream, the American promise, the American
vision. . . .
Americans who don't appreciate the flag don't appreciate this nation.
And those who appreciate this nation appreciate the American flag. Those
who fought, fought for that flag. Those who died, died for that flag. And
those who love America, love that flag. And defend it.
So if you want to desecrate the American flag, before you spit on it or
before you burn it . . . I have a simple request. Just ask permission. Not
from the Constitution. Not from some obscure law. Not from the politicians
or the pundits. Instead, ask those who defended our nation so that we may
be free today. Ask those who struggled to reach our shores so that they may
join us in the American dream. And ask those who clutch a flag in place of
their sacrificed sons and daughters, given to this nation so that others may
be free. For we cannot ask permission from those who died wishing they
could, just once . . . or once again . . . see, touch or kiss the flag that
stands for our nation, the United States of America . . . the greatest
nation on Earth.
Sunday, March 06, 2005
Recall Notice
RECALL NOTICE:
The Maker of all human beings is recalling all units manufactured, regardless of make or year, due to a serious defect in the primary and central component of the heart.
This is due to a malfunction in the original prototype units code named Adam and Eve, resulting in the reproduction of the same defect in all subsequent units.
This defect has been technically termed, "Subsequential Internal Non-morality", or more commonly known as S.I.N., as it is primarily expressed.
Some other symptoms:
1. Loss of direction
2. Foul vocal emissions
3. Amnesia of origin
4. Lack of peace and joy
5. Selfish, or violent behavior
6. Depression or confusion in the mental component
7. Fearfulness
8. Idolatry
9. Rebellion
The Manufacturer, who is neither liable nor at fault for this defect, is providing factory authorized repair and service free of charge to correct this SIN defect.
The Repair Technician, Jesus, has most generously offered to bear the entire burden of the staggering cost of these repairs. There is no additional fee required.
The number to call for repair in all areas is: P-R-A-Y-E-R. Once connected, please upload your burden of SIN through the REPENTANCE procedure.
Next, download ATONEMENT from the Repair Technician, Jesus, into the heart component.
No matter how big or small the SIN defect is, Jesus will replace it with:
1. Love
2. Joy
3. Peace
4. Patience
5. Kindness
6. Goodness
7. Faithfulness
8. Gentleness
9. Self control
Please see the operating manual, the B.I.B.L.E. (Believers Instructions Before Leaving Earth), for further details on the use of these fixes.
WARNING: Continuing to operate the human being unit without correction voids any manufacturer warranties, exposing the unit to dangers and problems too numerous to list and will result in the human unit being permanently impounded. For free emergency service, call on JESUS.
DANGER: The human being units not responding to this recall action will have to be scrapped in the furnace. The SIN defect will not be permitted to enter Heaven so as to prevent contamination of that facility.
Thank you for your immediate attention.
GOD
Please assist where possible by notifying others of this important recall notice!!!
The Maker of all human beings is recalling all units manufactured, regardless of make or year, due to a serious defect in the primary and central component of the heart.
This is due to a malfunction in the original prototype units code named Adam and Eve, resulting in the reproduction of the same defect in all subsequent units.
This defect has been technically termed, "Subsequential Internal Non-morality", or more commonly known as S.I.N., as it is primarily expressed.
Some other symptoms:
1. Loss of direction
2. Foul vocal emissions
3. Amnesia of origin
4. Lack of peace and joy
5. Selfish, or violent behavior
6. Depression or confusion in the mental component
7. Fearfulness
8. Idolatry
9. Rebellion
The Manufacturer, who is neither liable nor at fault for this defect, is providing factory authorized repair and service free of charge to correct this SIN defect.
The Repair Technician, Jesus, has most generously offered to bear the entire burden of the staggering cost of these repairs. There is no additional fee required.
The number to call for repair in all areas is: P-R-A-Y-E-R. Once connected, please upload your burden of SIN through the REPENTANCE procedure.
Next, download ATONEMENT from the Repair Technician, Jesus, into the heart component.
No matter how big or small the SIN defect is, Jesus will replace it with:
1. Love
2. Joy
3. Peace
4. Patience
5. Kindness
6. Goodness
7. Faithfulness
8. Gentleness
9. Self control
Please see the operating manual, the B.I.B.L.E. (Believers Instructions Before Leaving Earth), for further details on the use of these fixes.
WARNING: Continuing to operate the human being unit without correction voids any manufacturer warranties, exposing the unit to dangers and problems too numerous to list and will result in the human unit being permanently impounded. For free emergency service, call on JESUS.
DANGER: The human being units not responding to this recall action will have to be scrapped in the furnace. The SIN defect will not be permitted to enter Heaven so as to prevent contamination of that facility.
Thank you for your immediate attention.
GOD
Please assist where possible by notifying others of this important recall notice!!!
Wednesday, March 02, 2005
Iraqis Save American Lives
Major K.: Heroism: "� Blackouts | Main
March 02, 2005
Heroism
The other day, I was sitting in the conference room of our headquarters building during a meeting with the Executive Officer and the rest of the staff. When we heard a loud explosion that was strong enough and/or close enough to rattle our building. We all paused and looked at each other and remarked that "that one was pretty close." We waited a moment to hear if there were going to be any more explosions or gunfire as this would indicate that an attack was underway as opposed to merely a large detonation of captured explosives by our EOD (Explosive Ordnance Disposal) team nearby or an IED just outside the FOB. If there were any additional noises like that, we would have to gear up and get ready to fight. As it was, there were no additional explosions or gunfire and we continued our meeting.
This is what had happened: A short distance from our FOB, A US convoy was driving down the road. As they headed to their destination a civilian vehicle pulled on from a side alley and attempted to get into the convoy. Apparently, the convoy gunners were too green or some how did not perceive the car to be a threat. They did not wave the car off, throw anything at him, cut him off, or shoot to try and stop him. A nearby IP (Iraqi Police) SUV witnessed the intruding vehicle and immediately intervened. It pulled up to the rear of the convoy and tried to force the intruding vehicle off the road. The IP's had successfully put themselves between the vehicle and the US convoy. Unable to deter the vehicle from approaching the US convoy or make it pull over, the IP's fired at the engine of the encroaching vehicle. At this point, the driver detonated the IED inside his vehicle. Yes, this was a classic VBIED.
This suicide bomber killed himself and the four IP's
LINK
March 02, 2005
Heroism
The other day, I was sitting in the conference room of our headquarters building during a meeting with the Executive Officer and the rest of the staff. When we heard a loud explosion that was strong enough and/or close enough to rattle our building. We all paused and looked at each other and remarked that "that one was pretty close." We waited a moment to hear if there were going to be any more explosions or gunfire as this would indicate that an attack was underway as opposed to merely a large detonation of captured explosives by our EOD (Explosive Ordnance Disposal) team nearby or an IED just outside the FOB. If there were any additional noises like that, we would have to gear up and get ready to fight. As it was, there were no additional explosions or gunfire and we continued our meeting.
This is what had happened: A short distance from our FOB, A US convoy was driving down the road. As they headed to their destination a civilian vehicle pulled on from a side alley and attempted to get into the convoy. Apparently, the convoy gunners were too green or some how did not perceive the car to be a threat. They did not wave the car off, throw anything at him, cut him off, or shoot to try and stop him. A nearby IP (Iraqi Police) SUV witnessed the intruding vehicle and immediately intervened. It pulled up to the rear of the convoy and tried to force the intruding vehicle off the road. The IP's had successfully put themselves between the vehicle and the US convoy. Unable to deter the vehicle from approaching the US convoy or make it pull over, the IP's fired at the engine of the encroaching vehicle. At this point, the driver detonated the IED inside his vehicle. Yes, this was a classic VBIED.
This suicide bomber killed himself and the four IP's
LINK
Tuesday, March 01, 2005
Hilarious Email
If you read this without laughing out loud, there is something wrong with you. This is dedicated to everyone who ever attempted to get into a regular workout routine.
Dear Diary,
For my 40th birthday this year, my wife (the dear) purchased a week of personal training at the local health club for me. Although I am still in great shape since playing on my school football team 25 years ago, I decided it would be a good idea to go ahead and give it a try.
Called the club and made my reservations with a personal trainer named Belinda, who identified herself as a 26 year old aerobics instructor and model for athletic clothing and swim wear. My wife seemed pleased with my enthusiasm to get started! The club encouraged me to keep a diary to chart my progress...
Monday: Started my day at 6:00 am. Tough to get out of bed, but found it was well worth it when I arrived at the health club to find Belinda waiting for me.
She is something of a Greek goddess - with blond hair, dancing eyes and a dazzling white smile. Woo Hoo!! Belinda gave me a tour and showed me the machines. She took my pulse after five minutes on the treadmill. She was alarmed that my pulse was so fast, but I attribute it to standing next to her in her Lycra aerobic outfit. I enjoyed watching the skilful way in which she conducted her aerobics class after my workout today. Very inspiring. Belinda was encouraging as I did my sit ups, although my gut was already aching from holding it in the whole time she was around. This is going to be a FANTASTIC week!!
Tuesday: I drank a whole pot of coffee, but I finally made it out the door. Belinda made me lie on my back and push a heavy iron bar into the air - then she put weights on it! My legs were a little wobbly on the treadmill, but I made the full mile. Belinda's rewarding smile made it all worthwhile. I feel GREAT!! It's a whole new life for me.
Wednesday: The only way I can brush my teeth is by laying on the toothbrush on the counter and moving my mouth back and forth over it. I believe I have a hernia. Driving was OK as long as I didn't try to steer or stop. I parked on top of a GEO in the club parking lot. Belinda was impatient with me, insisting that my screams bothered other club members.
Her voice is a little too perky for early in the morning and when she scolds, she gets this nasally whine that is VERY annoying. My chest hurt when I got on the treadmill, so Belinda put me on the stair monster. Why the heck would anyone invent a machine to simulate an activity rendered obsolete by elevators? Belinda told me it would help me get in shape and enjoy life. She said some other junk too.
Thursday: Belinda was waiting for me with her vampire like teeth exposed as her thin,cruel lips were pulled back in a full snarl. I couldn't help being a half an hour late it took me that long to tie my shoes. Belinda took me to work out with dumbbells. When she was not looking, I ran and hid in the men's room. She sent Lars to find me, then, as punishment, put me on the rowing machine - which I sank.
Friday: I hate that heifer Belinda more than any human being has ever hated any other human being in the history of the world. Stupid, skinny, anemic little cheerleader. If there was a part of my body I could move without unbearable pain, I would beat her with it. Belinda wanted me to work on my triceps. I don't have any triceps! And if you don't want dents in the floor, don't hand me the *&%#(#&**!!@*@ barbells or anything that weighs more than a sandwich. The treadmill flung me off and I landed on a health and nutrition teacher. Why couldn't it have been someone softer, like the drama coach or the choir director?
Saturday: Belinda left a message on my answering machine in her grating, shrilly voice wondering why I did not show up today. Just hearing her made me want to smash the machine with my planner. However, I lacked the strength to even use the TV remote and ended up catching eleven straight hours of the Weather Channel.
Sunday: I'm having the Church van pick me up for services today so I can go and thank GOD that this week is over. I will also pray that next year my wife (the devil) will choose a gift for me that is fun - like a root canal or a vasectomy.
Hat tip: Toots
Dear Diary,
For my 40th birthday this year, my wife (the dear) purchased a week of personal training at the local health club for me. Although I am still in great shape since playing on my school football team 25 years ago, I decided it would be a good idea to go ahead and give it a try.
Called the club and made my reservations with a personal trainer named Belinda, who identified herself as a 26 year old aerobics instructor and model for athletic clothing and swim wear. My wife seemed pleased with my enthusiasm to get started! The club encouraged me to keep a diary to chart my progress...
Monday: Started my day at 6:00 am. Tough to get out of bed, but found it was well worth it when I arrived at the health club to find Belinda waiting for me.
She is something of a Greek goddess - with blond hair, dancing eyes and a dazzling white smile. Woo Hoo!! Belinda gave me a tour and showed me the machines. She took my pulse after five minutes on the treadmill. She was alarmed that my pulse was so fast, but I attribute it to standing next to her in her Lycra aerobic outfit. I enjoyed watching the skilful way in which she conducted her aerobics class after my workout today. Very inspiring. Belinda was encouraging as I did my sit ups, although my gut was already aching from holding it in the whole time she was around. This is going to be a FANTASTIC week!!
Tuesday: I drank a whole pot of coffee, but I finally made it out the door. Belinda made me lie on my back and push a heavy iron bar into the air - then she put weights on it! My legs were a little wobbly on the treadmill, but I made the full mile. Belinda's rewarding smile made it all worthwhile. I feel GREAT!! It's a whole new life for me.
Wednesday: The only way I can brush my teeth is by laying on the toothbrush on the counter and moving my mouth back and forth over it. I believe I have a hernia. Driving was OK as long as I didn't try to steer or stop. I parked on top of a GEO in the club parking lot. Belinda was impatient with me, insisting that my screams bothered other club members.
Her voice is a little too perky for early in the morning and when she scolds, she gets this nasally whine that is VERY annoying. My chest hurt when I got on the treadmill, so Belinda put me on the stair monster. Why the heck would anyone invent a machine to simulate an activity rendered obsolete by elevators? Belinda told me it would help me get in shape and enjoy life. She said some other junk too.
Thursday: Belinda was waiting for me with her vampire like teeth exposed as her thin,cruel lips were pulled back in a full snarl. I couldn't help being a half an hour late it took me that long to tie my shoes. Belinda took me to work out with dumbbells. When she was not looking, I ran and hid in the men's room. She sent Lars to find me, then, as punishment, put me on the rowing machine - which I sank.
Friday: I hate that heifer Belinda more than any human being has ever hated any other human being in the history of the world. Stupid, skinny, anemic little cheerleader. If there was a part of my body I could move without unbearable pain, I would beat her with it. Belinda wanted me to work on my triceps. I don't have any triceps! And if you don't want dents in the floor, don't hand me the *&%#(#&**!!@*@ barbells or anything that weighs more than a sandwich. The treadmill flung me off and I landed on a health and nutrition teacher. Why couldn't it have been someone softer, like the drama coach or the choir director?
Saturday: Belinda left a message on my answering machine in her grating, shrilly voice wondering why I did not show up today. Just hearing her made me want to smash the machine with my planner. However, I lacked the strength to even use the TV remote and ended up catching eleven straight hours of the Weather Channel.
Sunday: I'm having the Church van pick me up for services today so I can go and thank GOD that this week is over. I will also pray that next year my wife (the devil) will choose a gift for me that is fun - like a root canal or a vasectomy.
Hat tip: Toots
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