Archive for June, 2016

CNNCoalition airstrikes targeted two ISIS convoys leaving Falluja over two days, destroying about 175 vehicles carrying militants out of the city, the spokesman for the U.S. coalition said Thursday. Col. Chris Garver said Iraqi security forces destroyed other vehicles. Garver didn’t say how many ISIS militants were killed, but Iraqi officials said dozens died. A U.S. official said the destroyed vehicles could have carried as many as 250 ISIS fighters.

HELLS TO THE YAH! ‘MURICA!

PS – Right in time for Independence Day. My man George Washington would be proud.

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A couple of these surprise me.

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In honor of Independence Day I thought it would be appropriate to honor a georgememetrue American Hero, the toughest mofo in our history, the Original American Badass – Mr. George Washington.

In my history classes George Washington was simply referred to as “The Man”, and boy, was it for good reason.

Yes, George was our first president, but he was also The Original Badass. Thomas Jefferson described him as an irritable man, saying once his temper “broke its bonds, he was most tremendous in his wrath.” His intimidation factor was enhanced by the fact that nobody had ever seen him lose a fight. Hell, the Iroquois Indians gave him the title of “Caunotaucarius” which roughly translates as “destroyer of villages.” Yikes. He was definitely known for his rages, but it was said he calmed down once the storm passed and everyone changed their pants.

George grew up in Virginia and got his start as a Colonel of Colonial Forces in the French and Indian War, where he went out into the woods and beat the holy living hell out of a bunch of French soldiers.  When he gained a foothold in French territory in the West of Virginia, they called for reinforcements and completely surrounded his fortress, forcing him to surrender.  So what did George do?  He went out into the woods and ambushed any French units that came his way.  He personally would punch French ministers in the mouth and then hold them upside down by their feet while all their change fell out of their fruity coin purses so that he could send the money back the Britain to help pay for the crown jewels.  Eventually, the French realized how awesome he was and gave up trying to fight him.

During another battle in the French and Indian War, four bullets actually went through his coat and one went through his hat. George? He was fine. Oh, and he had two horses killed while he was riding them. Instead of realizing that God wanted him to walk, George just thought, “Man, bad day for horses, huh?” and picked his next victim to murder. No sweat for Big G, man.

At the Battle of the Monongahela, he rode back and forth across the battlefield, rallying the troops to a safe retreat among heavy fire and guys dying all around him. A witness said, “I expected every moment to see him fall. Nothing but the superintending care of God could have saved him.” His Indian enemies later stated that they had singled out Washington as a target, but their bullets had no effect as if he was protected by an invisible power. That’s some wild badassery right there. Years later, an Indian chief traveled to meet Washington. He recounted the battle, saying, “Our rifles were leveled, rifles which, but for you, knew not how to miss … I am come to pay homage to the man … who can never die in battle.”

Su-weet.

During the Revolutionary War, we desperately needed a spark. The British Army had basically been kicking our asses and George’s Continental Army was on the run.

But not for long.

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There goes a BAD man.

In a decision that changed the course of human history, George crossed the Delaware River in the bitter cold through snow and ice on Christmas night in 1776, and his men attacked and defeated the dreaded and feared Hessian mercenaries at Trenton. As Washington and his boys rolled up, the Hessians looked up and saw Washington crash the boat into some rocks, somersault out and begin wasting Hessians like a revolutionary boss.

That, my friends, turned the war around. Think about it – if George hadn’t had the cajones to pull it off that night you probably wouldn’t be sitting at your laptop right now. Like I said, course of human history and whatnot.

During the battle of Princeton in 1777, the American regiment was basically defeated. Done. Then George showed up. He arrived to a battle in which the British were completely destroying us and American men were fleeing from all angles. This must have been confusing to George, who never understood why people were afraid of bullets. Things were falling apart on an impossible scale, which is of course when The Man shone brightest. Washington rode over to the fleeing men and matter-of-factly called out, “Parade with us, my brave fellows! There is but a handful of the enemy, and we will have them directly.” Just a parade, boys. No big deal. Follow me! They did, of course, and won the battle. That’s how much they believed in George Washington. Either that or they were more afraid of him than the British. Probably a little of both.

Then, when it was time to fire the cannons at the decisive and war-ending Battle of Yorktown, guess who lit up the Redcoats with the first shot? Yep. George.

It wasn’t long before the British had enough of getting wrecked and surrendered. Freedom!

Listen to this one. After George led us to victory, his troops decided to throw him a farewell party. It might behoove you to know that this party was thrown just days before he and the rest of the crew signed off on the Constitution. The celebration was held at Philly’s historic City Tavern, and things took quite a turn. Here’s what George and 54 of his posse consumed in one crazy night:

  • 54 bottles of Madeira
  • 60 bottles of claret
  • 22 bottles of porter
  • 12 bottles of beer
  • 8 bottles of hard cider
  • 8 bottles of Old Stock (a.k.a. colonial whiskey)
  • 7 large bowls of spiked punch

Note: Good thing they added the 7 large bowls of spiked punch, huh? Had to make sure everyone got a proper buzz. On a related note, I’m guessing the beer was for James Madison. I heard that cat loved his barley pops.

Seriously kids, all this for just 54 men.  Good God. Look at that list again and do the math. It’s a miracle everyone survived, let alone craft out what is arguably the greatest document in the history of the world a few days later. Those cats were hardos, man.

Did I mention George was usually the best dressed man in the room and that he could cut a rug on the dance floor too? Of course he could.

After the war, when he was the most popular dude in the country, he resigned his commission and went back to his farm. People wanted him to be the king, and he just said, “Seriously? That’s what we were fighting to get away from. No thanks, I’m going home now.” Later, after he reluctantly agreed to be the first President of the United States, he voluntarily retired after two terms when he could have been in office for life.

Honorable, man.

To reiterate, George was a fearless leader of men, dodged bullets, created this country, and taught everybody that a cause can be greater than any one person or group of people. Not a bad life.

So, is there any question as to who was the Original American Badass?

Didn’t think so.

It was George Washington.

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General George Washington received no salary during the Revolutionary War. He was only paid for his expenses.

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Colorful.

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Chilling, in a way. Very prophetic.

On a related note, in 1994 The Today Show had no clue.

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SALUDA, S.C.—One man’s funeral is the talk of the town in Saluda, as 90-year-old Lonnie Holloway was buried in the front seat of his car along with his most prized possessions.

“I’ve been in the wrecker business 30 years and this is the first time we ever buried anybody in their car,” said Rodney Minick of Saluda Body Shop.

While some family members say they did the burial because they knew it was Mr. Holloway’s last wish, others say they disagreed but went along because they knew it’s what he wanted.

“I don’t like it but he told me a long time ago. He said ‘Sallie Mae, I’m going to be buried in my car.’ I said ‘Holloway, don’t make me ashamed’ and he said ‘If that’s going to make you ashamed, you’re going to have to be ashamed.’ I hope he made it,” said Lonnie’s sister Sallie Harris.

After the car was put in the ground, it was covered with a concrete slab to keep the the guns and the car from being stolen.

So ol’ Lonnie Holloway requested to be buried in his beloved 1973 Pontiac Catalina along with his guns, and I’ll be damned if his wife didn’t go through with it. Be honest, how many of you have wives that would fight you on this? Or maybe agree, then after you die just bury you the old-fashioned way? Not Mrs. Holloway, man. True to Lonnie’s request all the way. And hey, Sallie Harris, you don’t have to worry because Lonnie made it all right. And he made it in style, sitting behind the wheel of a sweet ’73 Pontiac Catalina.

Note I – Hey, Rodney Minick of Saluda Body Shop, there’s a reason you haven’t buried anyone in their car before, and that’s because you’re in the wrecker business. Der.

Note II – Good call on the concrete slab. Better safe than sorry.

Note III – I just noticed this story is 7-years old. Looks like I’m on top of things like always.

The largest “air force” in the world is the United States Air Force. The second largest air force in the world is the United States Navy.

 

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The Dude abides. If you don’t know what that means don’t ever speak to me again.

I once had a high school student tell me I was too old to use the word “dude.” I then proceeded to tell her, in no uncertain terms, that I had been using the word “dude” since I was in junior high. I then told her to shut it.

I hope she reads this:

From Lexicon Valley – For some time now, we have known the basic outline of the story of “dude.” The word was first used in the late 1800s as a term of mockery for young men who were overly concerned with keeping up with the latest fashions. It later came to stand for clueless city folk (who go to dude ranches) before it morphed into our all-purpose laid-back label for a guy. What we didn’t know was why the word dude was chosen in the first place.

Now, we finally have the answer. Allan Metcalf (who wrote the book on “OK”) reports in The Chronicle of Higher Education that a massive, decade-long “dude” research project has finally yielded convincing results.

The project belongs to Barry Popik and Gerald Cohen, described by Metcalf as “Googlers before there was Google.” Along with the help of other colleagues, they have been combing through 19th century periodicals for years, slowly amassing the world’s biggest collection of dude citations. The latest issue of Cohen’s journal, Comments on Etymology, lays out, in 129 pages, the most solidly supported account yet of the early days of dude.

So where does dude come from? Evidence points to “doodle,” as in “Yankee Doodle Dandy.” He’s the fellow who, as the song has it, “stuck a feather in his cap and called it macaroni.” “Macaroni” became a term for a dandy in the 18th century after young British men returned from their adventures on the European continent sporting exaggerated high-fashion clothes and mannerisms (along with a taste for an exotic Italian dish called “macaroni”). The best a rough, uncultured colonist could do if he wanted to imitate them was stick a feather in his cap.

“For some reason,” Metcalf says, “early in 1883, this inspired someone to call foppish young men of New York City ‘doods,’ with the alternate spelling ‘dudes’ soon becoming the norm.” Some of the early mocking descriptions of these dudes seem awfully familiar today: “A weak mustache, a cigarette, a thirteen button vest/A curled rim hat — a minaret — two watch chains cross the breast.” Yep, sounds like a hipster. But that word has gotten so stale. We should all go back to “dood,” or maybe even “doodle.”

See? So there ya go. Sorry youngsters, but you didn’t invent everything.

Idjuts.

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I still get a chill when they kick in at the 3:33 mark and they show that crowd.

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Hate to be a downer but as pretty as that is it looks like it could be a Cave of Death at high tide.

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Iceland (population 323,002) upset England (population 53,100,000) in soccer yesterday and it was a pretty big deal. Apparently England’s coach makes $3.5 million a year and Iceland’s coach is a dentist and only coaches part-time. Anyway, here’s Iceland’s announcer, Gudmundur Benediktsson, as the game wound down.

Note: England’s coach has resigned in shame.

Note II: Who would go to a part-time dentist?

Note III: Thank God for subtitles.

Note IV: Gudmundur Benediktsson’s name is so Icelandic it hurts.

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Did you know North America has four main Migratory Bird Flyways? You do now. Birds follow ancient pathways from their breeding grounds to wintering areas, an epic journey that has amazed mankind for millennia. Each fall, millions of birds migrate south to warmer regions in search of food and habitat. We don’t know for certain how they navigate during migration, but scientists believe the birds take cues from the position of the sun, moon, and stars in the sky; geographic landmarks like rivers and mountains; and magnetic fields. Nature!

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The parents are surprisingly unconcerned as well.

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An airplane crashed into the Empire State Building in 1945. Among other damage, plane parts severed the cables for an elevator and the woman inside fell over 70 stories. She lived and holds the world record for the longest survived elevator fall.

 

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India looks fun.

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So touching.

So far!

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(Source)Former Alabama State star and NFL quarterback Tarvaris boom_roastedJackson told his wife he “should shoot her” on Friday, to which she replied: “You better be accurate because you ain’t accurate on the field.” That’s according to the Osceola County (Fla.) Sheriff’s Office arrest report completed by Officer Jason Denning. Jackson’s wife said he was intoxicated, kicked in their bedroom door and became verbally abusive. She said she became afraid for her life and got a kitchen knife, according to the police report. She told authorities that Jackson got a gun out of a book bag, loaded it, pointed it at her and said he would kill her.

Listen, if you point a gun at me you know what I’m doing? Running for my freaking life. Sorry, I just don’t have the cajones to drop a line like that on a guy pointing a Ruger SR45 at my forehead. “You better be accurate because you ain’t accurate on the field”? Are you serious? That’s just savage, man. Big props to Ms. Tavaris Jackson. Big props indeed.

So the Staten Island Yankees are looking for a new team name for 2017, and staten islandthey’ve asked the public for help. The suggestion that gets the most votes will be the new team name. Predictably, this was a bad idea. Anyone who has ever read the comments section of a website knows this. That said, here are the five leading vote-getters so far:

  1. The Staten Island Fairies
  2. The Toll Payers
  3. The Forgottens
  4. The Fugetaboutits
  5. The Potholes

Sigh. The internet, man. Can’t even name a minor league baseball team without people being smartasses.

PS – Number one is genius, man. Rainbow colored uniforms? Hells to the yah. 

Discovered in the 90’s, The Mimic Octopus is a species of octopus capable of impersonating other local species. They are notable for being able to change their skin color and texture in order to blend in with their environment, such as algae-encrusted rock and nearby coral through pigment sacs known as chromatophores. Diabolical, man. Anywho, Mimic Octopus.

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Research shows you’re more likely to have a creative epiphany when you’re doing something monotonous, like fishing, exercising, or showering.

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Yep, that’s the Soufriere Hills Volcano on Montserrat, the same one I was standing at the edge of and looking into about 36-hours before its first eruption in recorded history. Still seems surreal.

Note: You can read about that amazing experience in my story Basketball, an Island, and a Volcano: My First Journey to the Caribbean.

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Enjoy!

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