Saturday, November 11, 2006

Oh Just Shut Up

I don't know why I subject myself to Atlanta's talk radio idiocy,but once in awhile in the car I do,just to see what the dipshits are up to. Because it's a holiday,the main conservatard station is replaying crap from this past week.

So I'm listening to some woman(Laura Ingraham?I'm not sure) go on and on about the minimum wage hike and how it will destroy the economy and actually increase the number of scary brown people who come here. Yawn,seriously,it's obvious these people learned nothing from this week's elections.

Then she takes a call from this guy who is livid about the conservative upset,he's voted loyally,sent them money,etc,for 30 years. And he's pissed,PISSED mind you, that now the war is going to end. Yes,folks,the war might end,heaven help us all. So he rattles on some more,and he says he's leaving work early because he's just too upset to work. (someone please,get this man a fucking wa-haaaa-mbulance,stat) .The show host tells him not to leave work,that's what liberals do,and someone has to keep the economy going.

Ya know what? FUCK YOU lady and your jackass warmongering caller too. My husband put in 70 hours this week,how many hours did you work this week? Let's see,3 hours a day,times 5,that's 15. And being the generous soul I am,I'll give you another 15 to do staff meetings and what you call show preparation.Even though I doubt reading RNC talking points requires that much work. So,just to be "fair and balanced"I'll give you 30 hours a week for a job that doesn't require any heavy lifting,mentally or physically, and that pays you several times what my husband makes. Once my husband hits 30 hours his week ain't even half over yet you stupid,vapid,lying,she-beast. If liberals decided to take the day off this country would stop running,so shut your empty headed pie hole. I wish my husband would work less,but he can't. He goes to work sick,hurting and sore all over,and brings lots of work home with him too. Liberals are lazy my ass.

And as for you, sad widdle caller who has his poor widdle feewings hurt because the war might be over soon...I've got two words for you: Enlist Motherfucker. I'll drive you to the recruiter's office my damned self. I'll even send you care packages once you get to Iraq, you little snivelling bitch. Talk to me when you have sand caked in the crack of your ass and the next hot shower you get is weeks away in polluted water because fucking KBR can't do their job. Oh,and on the way home from the recruiter's office,we'll swing by the VA hospital and you can go tell the heroes there how pissed off you are that the war might end soon. Go on,say it,right to their faces. Then,we'll stop off at the VA mental health center/outpatient clinic and you can tell those guys and gals the same thing. And since it's Veteran's day,let's visit a cemetary and you can tell that shit to families placing flags and flowers on their loved one's graves you evil,demented shithead. Do a tour in Iraq and then we'll see how much you like this war your Party loves so much. If you refuse to serve,then shut the fuck up. Jesus Tapdancing Christ I am sick of these people.

When I was a kid,I had two cousins(actually their mom was my grandpa's sister.We called her Auntie),about a decade older than me who did more than one tour of duty in Vietnam. They had 3 sisters,also older than me,and I hung out at their house on the weekends alot. Before they left,I was their very favoritist little cousin. They doted on me,even let me hang out with them and their friends,even though I was a little kid and a pain in the ass. I was a precocious kid,learned to read when I was 3,by the time I was in 3rd grade I was a total science geek,and they made a huge deal about showing off how smart I was to their buddies. Bobby and Dick,the best friends a kid could have. I didn't have an older brother or older sister,so they were the next best thing. I got to be the baby of the family at their house and all of them spoiled me rotten.

Both of them came home from the war in one piece,addicted to heroin. Suffering from PTSD. After that,I never got to be alone with them anymore. No one would tell me why,but I knew. I wouldn't realize til much later on what they had to do"over there",and how that pretty much stole who they were before.

Their mother raised 5 kids by herself,her husband left one day and no one ever saw him again. She worked two jobs and in her spare time(haha)put herself through nursing school. I have no idea how she did it but she did. Blue collar working class families from that time almost without fail had at least one kid in Vietnam.

They came home to a nation that didn't honor them with any parades or admiration. To a government who exposed them to toxins in the battlefield and lied about it,denying them benefits. To families who didn't fully comprehend why they were there or what they were faced with in the jungle. To this day there are still homeless Vietnam Veterans. Some families never recovered from their lost loved ones,those who died and those who came home forever changed.

If we learn anything at all from Iraq and Afghanistan,maybe it should be this:

If our so called "leaders"want a war so bad,let them send their own kids first. Maybe that should be THE first rule of warfare. If they won't do that,then perhaps the war they want is bullshit. And maybe we should wonder if it's not all just a lie to enrich pasty white "bidness men". And maybe,maybe,we should refuse to send our kids to die to fatten their wallets.

And finally,thank you,Fixer,Gordon,Nina,Lurch,Sizemore and all the many other Vets who come here to chat,rant,and occasionally scheme and dream. To all of you and all Vets,thank you for your dedication,courage,sacrifices,and service. You are the spine of the nation,that allows all of us to stand just a little taller.

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