Monday, September 29, 2008
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Dear Reader, go to parts 1-6 of Love American VS Korean Style, so as to be up to snuff before reading this latest installment of JihadGene's love of his life.
To recap...met future wife in Army snack bar sitting with friends. Made best friend out of friends to get at future wife (KIM). I tried to get to first base with Kim. No good. I take another route and set up mutual friend's birthday party in order to get to be with Kim. Birthday guy get's drunk, pukes on Kim. Kim leaves party. JihadGene feels like one sad G.I. Some Korean Grandma's (Shaman) at the birthday party take pity on me and try to fix things with Kim, by going to talk to her. All eleven or more of us, crowd into one tiny taxi and head to Kim's place to patch things up. I never get to see Kim but the Grandma's tell me it's all good in the hood and to beat feet. At least I now know where Kim lives. It's almost curfew (midnight). I have no overnight US Forces Korea pass, no money, no smokes to barter with, and no luck. I run for the base. I see a bus leaving. I jump onto the rear bumper of the bus, which got me a few fast kilometers down the road until the bus hits a bomb-crater of a pot hole in the road and I'm pitched off at 40MPH. I survive. It's now a few minutes after curfew and two Korean National Policemen (KNP's) spot me. I run/limp quickly and they blow their police whistles at me, giving chase. So begins "Operation Escape and Evade".
I'm running (taking leg bail) and my Tony Lama tennis shoes, also known as cowboy-boots, have never moved faster. I thank Allah for giving me Korean National Police Officers Bert & Ernie. These are two out of shape, middle aged, Korean, chain-smoking cops, trying to catch a 20 year old US Army soldier who wants nothing to do with these ass holes. I'm limping along but I'm still smoking their asses like Sarah Palin at a moose hunt with a hungry family of Eskimos to feed! Not knowing the area, I zig and zag quickly through a very narrow street. On both sides are a bunch of little houses, like compounds really, all with gates and walls. The way is narrow. The way is dark. Awnings from the roofs jut out at a height of about six feet. I am 6'3" and wearing cowboy-boots. The little street is dark.
Did I tell you about the tops of the little home's walls which are either sporting outward pointing metal spikes or broken glass bottles cemented in on the top of the walls? Sometimes they have both to keep unwanted visitors (thieves) out. I'm setting a world's record for all American soldiers over six feet tall and 200+10 lbs, in the Korean suicidal obstacle course. I duck about all of the awnings. I'm a Ninja. I just know it. KRRRaaaack! Roof tiles fly.
Now folks, I've never been shot. But if I had of been, that's how I would of felt after hitting that awning with the once tiled roof. I want only one kiss from my beautiful Kim before I check out at that big P.X. in the Sky. I'm in and out of reality . Jehovah God, Allah, Buddah, & Ralph Nader only knows how long I've been in a stupor sitting on my ass, hands to my bleeding forehead, yet sitting upright despite my self inflicted wounds. Bert and Ernie, the Korean national Police, have spotted me and are again in hot pursuit. Pursuit of me, Mr G.I. Curfew Violator. As I get up to run, I swear I can smell Kim's purfume. Call it a second wind or hormones, I'm up and running my big ass off again. I think what would my Dad, a WWII US Marine (Guadalcanal & Tarawa veteran) and an electrician, do in such a situation? As I round a corner it becomes clear. I climb a Korean (cement) telephone pole. Up I jump, shimmy a few feet, then grab the rungs. The cowboy boots I'm wearing help make it an easy and quick climb. Once atop "Mount Cement Pole", I look down at the dimly lit street below. Bert & Ernie round the corner. I hold on and try to keep as quiet as any church mouse. They walk back and forth. Up and down the dark street. They are looking everywhere for me, except up. I want to laugh but I don't dare. I remember the song by Glen Campbell, The Wichita Lineman. Now I'm really afraid I'm gonna laugh. They are under me now, smoking cigarettes, and looking up and down the street for me. They are quiet. They are cops who are listening....listening for the sounds of cowboy boots. Just when I think I'm gonna start laughing I see some poor drunk Korean man round the corner, see the cops, then turn on his heel and run. Bert and Ernie give chase. I climb, then slide down the pole. Lady luck is with me, that or the blessings of the Korean Grandma's (shaman/witches). A bicycle with only one tire is propped up against a wall. The front tire is missing...no problem. As a kid we liked to do wheelie's on Sting Ray bikes. I had no idea then, that it would be a valuable skill to me in some far off asian country. I push off, kick the pedals hard, pull back on the handle bars and I'm moving down the street on one wheel. Too frickin' cool! Damn, I'm good at this! Well...except for steering. I bring the bike down for just a second, as I re-adjust my angle at a new intersection. This next narrow street has a big old 'banjo-ditch' in the middle of it. Now this Korean banjo-ditch is about as wide as any I can recall. Maybe 8 foot across and 5 feet deep. Hence the word 'ditch'. The banjo word comes in from Japan brought to us by American troops who called toilets "banjo's". Hence...the banjo ditch is not a sweet smelling/looking place. On I ride into the night. I recall Kim's angelic face as I ride near the ditch and remember the words of General George S. Patton, when speaking about reconnaissance troops..."Just drive down that road, until you get blown up". On I ride, into the crisp Korean city night. Well almost. (to be continued)
* The Bicycle Man by Allen Say is one of my favorite kids books! Take two good-hearted US Marines in post WWII occupied Japan, a school, one bicycle, and enjoy this heart-warming story. JG ;)
Friday, September 26, 2008
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Beloved Great Reader KIM Jong Il has ohfishwally announced the suspension of his World Famous and Feared brogg GREAT READER, in a show of support for Senator John Wayne McCain's debate suspension with Illynoise Senator, Baalack Who's-Named Obama. The strong and heathly-as-a-young-bull, KIM Jong Il, in his infinite wisdom has said, "Hey! I can do that shit!" KIM further stated that until America's hard-working-mortgage-and tax-paying-Middle-Class-citizens decide to kick down with more of their tax dollar dinero ($) for the rich, that he, Great Reader KIM Jong Il, ain't blogging for some time. Kim said, "I've had it up to here (pointing to his navel) with the American middle class tax payers not paying their fair share for the rich! If a rich man needs money for world class healthcare and a sixth vacation home...then so be it. Rich man play hard. Need money. Middle Class takes out loans from nice rich man and pays him back + interest, taxes, shipping and handling fees. Rich guy nice to middle class. Easy to see. Middle class owes rich guys bligg time! If US Tax dollars good enough for Lee Iacocca it good enough for T. Boone Pickins and Warren Buffett. Now pay up Sucka's".
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Just a quickie here, Vern. It's been a rough week. Wife kinda sick lately, Son, business, and stuff that needs to be done at home and at work, still needs getting done. Blogging very slow. Maybe I'll have more stuff over the weekend. Maybe not. Know what I mean?
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Remember going to the movies on a Saturday afternoon? Man, I sure do. Those were great times. So in keeping with that tradition I give you KIM Jong Il's Saturday Matinee Movie...
Starring Red Buttons as Blade Bate... Hoothcie Mammasan as herself...and Hawaii Five O's own Kam Fong as Chin Ho! Be sure to see all these stars in the epic...SAYONARA SUCK'A!
+special thanks to hammer for the pic and twisted inspiration.
Friday, September 19, 2008
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Where were we? Oh yeah...met future wife in Army snack bar sitting with friends. Made best friend out of friends to get at future wife (KIM). By hook and crook tried to get to first base with Kim. Progress very slow. Set up mutual friend's birthday party in order to get to be with Kim. Birthday guy get's drunk, pukes on Kim. Kim leaves party early. JihadGene feels lower than John McCain on the campaign trail without Sarah Palin (Moose Slayer). I LUV's that Sarah Palin!!! So don't even listen to my Elder Sister Carol! Ooops, where was I? Oh yeah. So the partying Grandma's (AKA- KoreanWitches) take pity on me. All eleven or more of us, crowd into one tiny taxi and head to Kim's place to patch things up. The Grandma's tell me it's all good in the hood and to beat feet.... I never get to see the lovely KIM to apologize to her. At least I now know where she lives. It's almost curfew and I have no overnight US Forces Korea pass. I gotta go!
The clock is ticking. I've got 25 minutes to get back to Camp (10 km away) before nation-wide curfew kicks in...speaking of kicking...the Korean National Police (KNP's) will be kicking my ass if they get a hold of me, out after curfew! I begin to run in my 'Tony Lama' tennis shoes. It's too close to curfew! The taxi's and buses have stopped picking up fares. So I'm runnin' scared when I round a corner and see this bus taking off without any passengers aboard. It's heading towards the Army Camp. As I have no money, nor Marlboro cigarettes to barter with, and besides no one is picking up fares at this late hour, I jump on the ass end of the Han Kook Highway Hound (AKA-Korea Greyhound). Did I tell ya how the Korean Buses have two handles on the back of them mounted just below the rear windshield? In March of 1975 they sure as hell did! I know. By hanging onto the handle with both hands while keeping your (my) big-assed feet splayed outward on top of the rear bumper, it is possible (nutz is what it is) to "Ride the Dawg" erstwhile keeping one's head down so the driver doesn't see you hanging onto his bus in the rear view mirror. Now I admit, I have never seen any Koreans ride in this suicidal fashion before but I have heard of other GI's riding off into the sunset and probably to their early demise, in this way. I was soon to find out for myself 1st hand and thusly began "Operation Suicide Bus Ride".
The bus takes off with me aboard. I remember these words as the bus smokes off into the Pusan City night....
"Courage is fear holding on a minute longer"-General George Patton Jr.
I'm in luck! We keep heading towards my base. My hands are cramping. I want to let go. My knuckles have never been whiter. I have a death grip on the handle. The Korean night air is very cold at 75MPH. My blood pressure must be in the 225 over 190 range. Despite the cold, I sweat profusely. I am comforted by these words from General Patton...
"A pint of sweat will save a gallon of blood".
I know we're getting close. We must be close! I prepare to jump. Hell, I can't jump. The bus is going way too fast! The bus hits a Korean pot-hole, or it might have been a bomb crater left over from after the war, whatever, I'm thrown from the bus. I fly through the air wondering who in the hell would want to be a Paratrooper as I remember Kim's pretty face and more of General Patton's words...
"The test of success is not what you do when you're on top. Success is how high you bounce when you hit bottom".
I land on my 5th point of contact (my ass) at approximately 40MPH and proceed to bounce, slide, skid, tumble, and roll along the roadway. I stop and lay mercifully on the side of the road. Later, when I regained consciousness, I checked my injuries. I'm a big giant case of FUBAR (F'd Up Beyond All Recognition) but otherwise not in too bad of shape. I still have my empty wallet with military ID. The dust and dirt from the road's surface have clogged my numerous scrapes and cuts, thus stopping any serious bleeding. Cool. I get to my feet and begin to limp quick-as-I-can back to the barracks. It is now after curfew (midnight) and I hear the sound of a police whistle nearby. I look behind me and there they are. Thud & Dud. Two Korean National Policemen running towards me. I begin to run-limp. Come on cowboy boots, don't fail me now! I begin "Operation Escape and Evade". (To Be Continued) C
Computers suck. You buy this product to protect your system then it protects you so well it won't let you access your internet connection. Hoop after hoop, I jump through. Money flies through the air and my problem is only kinda fixed. I will do some serious seppuku (a Japanese form of ritual suicide by disembowelment) before I am suckered into getting "Outpost (outhouse) Firewall Pro" again. Maybe I'll just get a Mac next time, like my Elder Sister Carol. Speaking of Carol...I want to thank her for helping me out in my times of troubles! She is a Sweetie with an upper case "S".
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Monday, September 15, 2008
Friday, September 12, 2008
Dear Reader, go to parts 1-4 of Love American VS Korean Style, so as to be up to snuff before reading this latest installment of JihadGene's love of his life.
Where were we? Oh yeah...met future wife in Army snack bar sitting with friends. Made best friend out of friends to get at future wife (KIM). By hook and crook tried to get to first base with Kim. Progress very slow. Set up mutual friend's birthday party in order to get to be with Kim. Birthday guy get's drunk, pukes on Kim. Kim leaves party early. JihadGene feels lower than Nancy Pelosi on her recent book tour. The party ladies (AKA- Korean GrandMa's/Shaman) take pity on JG. All eleven or more of us, crowd into one tiny taxi and head to Kim's place to patch things up.
I do as requested, still in "Operation Sad Sack" mode. We pass by the base. It's getting late. Curfew is at midnight. I must remember the way to, and back to base, from Kim's. I have no glass slipper...like Cinderella...and no overnight pass. My pass is what you'd call a CinderFella Liberty Pass. It expires at midnight. Curfew for the entire country of South Korea was at midnight. That includes all love sick G.I.'s too. Coming in after curfew was a big No-No and it meant a trip to see my First Sergeant, who looked like and who could kick George Foreman's ass! I'm sweating even more now. I'm screwed but at least the GrandMa's are on my sides... and on top of my lap...pulverizing my testicles with their weight... and then to make matters worse... this death-trap-called-a-taxi begins see-sawing and swerving all over the place! The horn blares! It's all about using the horn and hitting the gas over in Korea. We slide sideways doing a complete 360 degree spin that my Uncle Bob (the drunk) would have been proud of! Suddenly there is a big Kahh-Woompf! I hear the Grannies cackling and one says the words "stupid" and "bicycle", in Korean. They all laugh for a moment then turn on the chain-smoking taxi driver, telling him "Bally! Bally!"...because he has slowed down. Bally means faster in Korean. I'm a nervous wreck. I wished I was drunk. Oh my aching balls! Is this what love is? We must have been doing 75MPH when our driver makes a 90 degree turn...we're pulling more G's now than an F-14 Tomcat in a Korean Top Gun School! I hope I blackout. I pray I blackout! No such luck. Merciful God hear my prayers, I say. The little Hyundai taxi swerves. We're on two wheels! Oh Hell! Pulling high G's again...Wummmmph-wump! Now I hear that God-awful laughter and cackling again! One of the witches says "stupid" and "drunk", in Korean. The driver speeds up even more. Holy shit! On we continue and one Grandma keeps saying to me, "Fast Kim house". I know, I say "Too Fast Kim House". She doesn't understand. In a cloud of dust, the taxi has come to a complete stop. God, Jehovah, Buddah, and Allah is good! Well...now the ladies/Korean Witches all bail out and I am stuck paying the fare. I have no money. I give the driver a pack of US Marlboro cigarettes. He smiles at me a yellow-toothed smile and goes thru the gears, burning rubber off into the asian night. At least he will be making it home before curfew. Being a good soldier I memorized the route from the base. Route Recon is always important... and the way to Kim's place? Most important! I never saw Korean Grandma's move so fast. They jabbered Korean into a speaker at the gate where Kim lived. I could make out some words....American...him cry...very sorry...open gate. A lot of the Korean I couldn't make out. I hoped for the best. Before the gate opened one of the Grandma's pushed me out of view and signaled for me to be quiet. I did this, fearing a hex put on me. They entered the gate and talked to KIM. I was outside on the curb. There were no curbs in Korea at that time, but you get the idea. I wait and I wait. I am about 10km from base. Looking at my Timex, I have 35 minutes before curfew, no money, and no more smokes to barter with. After 10 more minutes the Grandma's (using telepathy) tell me to go home, they would fix everything, and that they would spend the night at Kim's. So now I gotta kick-rocks, vamvoose, split, ya know... get the hell out of Dodge... before the Korean Police catch my rear-end outside the fence during curfew! This calls for a plan. Plan, my ass. I have no plan! I run down the street in my cowboy boots like a chicken with his head cut off. I run... and I run! I spot a bus, occupied only by the driver. It starts up and begins to take off in the direction of my base. Now I formulate a plan. A hell of a plan, I might add! And so begins "Operation Suicide Bus Ride"! (To Be Continued)
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
I am well aware of the rumors started by those Republican Right-Winged Lipstick-Wearing PIGS stating that my dear friend, Great Reader, KIM Jong Il is dead. This is not true! You can be sure of it! I just got off the phone with him (1-800-KIM-LIVE). Don't listen to those lipsticked hockey-infested Mom's who wear no hajibs! Unlike the wonderful Nancy Pelosi (is she still on vacation?) they, the lipsticked ones, and all the devil children they have spawned will suffer a retro-active abortion at the hands of the most merciful god of all, Allah, himself. So don't give me any of that Rush Limbaugh crap with the totally bogus phone number of 1-800-KIM-DEAD. Remember...just as OJ will be found innocent in Vegas...Great Reader, KIM Jong Il lives! Obama's gonna win too! So there.... take that...you infidels and women with the painted up faces and ruby-red lips.
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Our Great Reader, KIM Jong IL, is not suffering from a stroke! This is a blatant lie! It is most obviously a ploy of the Rogue Maverick Cowboy Senator, John Wayne McCain who is undoubtedly assisted in this twisted lie by the horrid republican party's Wicked Winch from the West...the Ice Queen herself, Saracuda Palin! This is only some sort of an attempt to take Barack Whose-Named Obama out of the news. Praise be to Obama and Allah, that it's all a bunch of right winged experience-lacking HOOEY! There are no wheelchairs within 1000 miles of the Great Reader! Also in the news...OJ will be found innocent in Las Vegas!!! Now, may Allah's love encompass you and slit the throats of all non-believers! Have a nice day. (BB in Hades)
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Where were we? Oh yeah...met future wife in Army snack bar sitting with friends. Made best friend out of friends to get at future wife (KIM). By hook and crook tried to get to first base with Kim. Progress very slow. Set up mutual friend's birthday party in order to get to be with Kim. Birthday guy get's drunk, pukes on Kim. Kim leaves party early. JihadGene feeling very low. So...without further ado, let's join in with our friends and all lovers of love and especially THE KOREAN GRANDMOTHERS.
Well... when New Best Friend and his Wife saw how miserable I was about KIM being puked on and having to leave early, she began to talking/telling the other ladies there just how touching it was to see what a big miserable Son of a Bitch I was, since Kim had caught a taxi and left the barfday party. The Korean Grannies began cackling as if they were a bunch of illegal aliens (registered Democrats) working in a meat packing plant when the US Border Patrol bus arrives. My outward misery had struck a nerve! I didn't realize what was going on...I was just miserable...flat broke...and "my" KIM (I wished she was mine) probably hates my guts. Soon I gotta RTB (return to base) before curfew. Now all the Korean GrandMa's are looking at me with kind faces and talking, seeing what a big miserable son-of-a-bitch I truthfully now am, since KIM had left the party. Six months of Army pay couldn't have bought me such "YOU GOOD G.I." bonus points! Next thing I know, one elderly lady is smiling at me and patting my shoulder, telling me it's OK. Maybe the only English she knows is OK, I don't know... but I speak to her in Korean addressing her by her proper title and thanking her. Her face lights up. The Korean lessons I learned from the KATUSA's (Korean Soldiers) I worked with, was paying off. Though I hadn't immediately realized it, I had struck gold! Now back to my lovely Kim...she had no phone in her tiny apartment, a rented room really, and took a taxi there to clean up, and call it a night. She later told me she still found me cute, even then. To this day I don't know if she is feeding me BS or is telling me true. Whatever...back to the puke party... The Korean grandma's, all 11 of them, told me to hop in the taxi with them. It seems they have launched their very own "Campaign of Luv". Now I don't know how many of us actually got in and were packed into that tiny four doored Hyundai taxi cab, with the 4 speed stickshift, powered by any number of cylinders (pick a number 1 thru 3) driven by a skinny chain-smoking Korean middle aged man, but if Guinness would have been there it would'a been a record. I didn't know about KOREAN NASCAR fans until I met these grandma's. They all started yelling at the poor taxi driver like he was a SARAH PALIN SUPPORTER at the taping of an OPRAH SHOW. They yelled for the driver ( in loosley translated Korean, by me) to get this one cylindered piece of crap to moving faster or they'd make sure he would spend the rest of his miserable days up in NORTH KOREA as a freakin' EUNIC!
Our speed greatly and mysteriously increased almost immediately. Holy shit! Did he just burn rubber going from 3rd into 4th gear?! No fooking way! One old toothless grandma just smiled at me with an all knowing smile. I think she was a Korean Shaman. WTF have I gotten myself into I wondered? Erstwhile, a hefty Korean gandma is sitting on my lap crushing my balls through the floor board of the little Hyundai. Sooo...we began to skid sideways and all the old fears of riding with my drunk Uncle Bob at the wheel of his 1965 black 2 door Chevy Corvair Monza Spider around the winding roads of Lake Berryessa return. I don't know if I shit my pants or if it is the smell of the old korean GrandMa's...I'm scared
I tell ya! And I mean REALLY SCARED!!!(To Be Continued)
Friday, September 5, 2008
Thursday, September 4, 2008
**OHFISHWALL NORF KOREAN MEMO** DATE 04-09-2008
FROM- Great Reader, KIM Jong IL
TO- US Senator John Wayne McCain
SUBJECT- Disciplinary action for Thursday nights speakers.
OBSERVATIONS- Great Reader, KIM Jong IL has noted the following mistakes (you may call them your choice of guest speakers) made at Thursday night's Repubrickan Love Fest Convention located in PyongYang's Sister City of St Paul, Minnesoda.
#1 Lindsay Graham...Great Reader knows he's your buddy... but WTF, over? To your base he is a piece of KimChee. If you needed a "Ham" to speak you should have had Laura Ingraham speak or invited brogger Mary Katharine Ham. Graham's presence ownree pissed off the conservatives who are trying to helps you! You may as well have invited Senator Trent "Twat" Lott (RHINO-Mississippi) to speak. As if that wasn't bads enuff you had to have Blonde Lady speak....
#2 Your WIFE, Cindy "Mother Teresa" McCain. WTF?! Do Americans have to vote for the Worst (First) Lady too? She running four office? She spoke for days! I'm looks at my Rolex- Timex and watched the hours roll by. I'm thinks when is she gonna shut the hells up? On and on she goes. Good grief, Charlie Cong! Only time she got apprause was when she mentioned her Governor Ladyship Sarahcuda Payfin. It took for ev'a!
OPINIONS, CONCLUSIONS, & CONTUSIONS- John, get a big frickin' clue bat, smack it over your head for a wake-up call or drop your drawers, and let the SarahCudaNator wack your 72 year old buttocks repeatedly with a hockey stick! Quit being a dumb-ass and get your wife out of the plicture. Before Cindy spoke there was a nice video about her. That was enuff...butt oh nooo....she has to rattle on. It sucked massive amounts of dong, Juan. Then you finally spoke.
The bottom whine- Last night's convention with Sarahcuda Palin was mucho better than tonight. Johnny....keep your old lady in da background...I don't care if she adopts me! Just keep it in house. No stick it in face trying to prove you cares about peoples. It just smells same-same as the Greek styrofoam columns of Barack Whose-Named Obama. Savy amigo? Now go sit 5 minutes in penalty box.
El Mucho Grande
KIM Jong IL
Meanwhile it's 4:00AM in the DPRK, somewhere North of the Samsung-DaeWoo line (DMZ), and we find Great Reader, KIM Jong IL, tossing and turning, unable to sleep after seeing and hearing the Sarah Palin speech and Senator Joe Biden's follow up remarks...
KIM- Yo! General Wang! Get your 7 star buttocks over here ASLAP!
WANG- I'm right here Your Greatness! What is it, can't sleep?
KIM- Uh-huh. My head is about to 'splode!
WANG- Sarah Palin's speech got you all Jack'd up, Most Disstressed One?
KIM- Not compreetly.
WANG- Not completely? Well what else is bothering you, Sir.
KIM- I see US Sintore Joe Biden on TV with Matts Wower on US People's NBC Today Show and it raises a whole buncha questions four me.
WANG- NBC's Matt Lauer? Biden? Questions, Sir?
KIM- Yeah, Joe Biden keeps sayings all this "SHOW ME. SHOW ME" booshit after Sarahcuda Palin's "I HAVE A HOCKEY SCHTICK" speech. Is DellaWhere the SHOW ME state? Biden frums DellieWare, is he not?
WANG- Sir, Missouri is the "show me" state. What kind of "show me" questions was Senator Biden asking about Governor Palin's speech?
KIM- Stuffs like...why for she no mention new jobs, why for she no talk Afghanistan, Pakistan, why for she no mention Fresno State's 24-7 victory over Rutgers, why for she no mention economy, why for she no mention hair plugs for men!!! That stupid f*ck Biden! Doesn't he see that Sarahcuda just Tee'd up the ball for McCain and that John Wayne McCain is gonna shove an entire set of Callaway Big Bertha woods, irons, including the Big Bertha 460 Driver and the Big Bertha sport cart bag with balls, I might add, straight-up his and Obama's asses?!!!
WANG- You're overwrought, Sir. I'll call the nurse.
KIM- No respect! JOE "HAIR PLUGS BIDEN" and "THE BLOW ME STATE" of Delaware get no respect from me...ME...Rodney Danger-KIM!!! NEVA-EVA!!!
(Kim Jong Il now does a Rodney Dangerfield imitation)
I tell ya...it ain't easy being me. Just the other day one of my wives told me her face was her fortune....I hated to tell the poor dear, but she's been living in poverty all of her life!!! Life ain't easy in the "Axis of Evil" I tell ya...
WANG- (on phone to nurse) Bring the Thorazine. Quick!!!
KIM- Have her make it on the rocks and don't forget the little umbrella!!! It ain't easy dealin with dumb-ass Democrats I tell ya! I'm the Bobby Orr of the DMZ! I'll not only body-check that punk Joe Biden but I'll do some butt-ending on that hair-plugged head of his! OBAMA, YOUR MOOSE IS COOKED!!! Mudder-pucker!!!
*I dedicate this rather brash post to my brother-in-law, Mr Goodguy, who says I've been too toned-down lately. JG ;)
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Senators Harry "Balls" Reid and Joe "Plugs" Biden are seen clearing the roadway of mines for Barack "Whose-Named" Obama's bus, as it departs the mile-hi city of John Denver, Colorado.
*That is all. Smoke 'em if you got 'em.
Meanwhile somewhere north of the 38th Parallel, in The Land of the Morning Missile Launch, Norf Korea, it's 3:00AM... and Great Reader KIM Jong IL's phone rings....
(North Korean phone rings)
BRING-BRING! BRING-BRING! BRING-BRING! BRING!!!!!!
(phone continues to ring and now loud knocking on Great Reader's bedroom door)
KIM- ZZzzzzz...snort...WTF, over?!
KIM- Okray! OKRAY!!! I'm up's already! Now stops it with the bringing of phone and the knocka-knocka's on door, General Wang!
WANG- (behind door) Pick up the phone, Sir! It's long distance from St Paul, Minnesota!!
KIM- Hell-row? Yes this is Norf Korean Great Reader, KIM Jong IL...
VOICE- Knock. Knock.
KIM- Whose there?
KIM- Mooseiscooked who?
VOICE- Yours and Obama's.
KIM- Ha and ha, very flunnie. Grood night.
(hangs up phone)
WANG- Who was that Sir?
KIM- I'll give you 2 guesses.
WANG- Fred Thompson or Sarah Palin?
WANG- You really think so, Sir?
KIM- Well it the sure-as-hell wasn't P. Diddy or Hillary Clinton.
Now say good night Wang.
WANG- Good night, Sir.
Taken from an earlier post at AmVets.Org-
Jerry Reed Receives Silver Helmet Award
Known in country music as “The Guitar Man,” singer-songwriter Jerry "Reed" Hubbard is known not only for a successful solo career but also for his acting roles and for his work as an ace session player. Reed was born in Atlanta on March 20, 1937, and was signed to cut his first record, “If the Good Lord's Willing and the Creeks Don't Rise,” at age 18.
Reed served in the Army from 1959 – 1961. After his tour of duty he moved to Nashville to continue his singing and songwriting career, which continues to this day. During his career Reed never forgot his ties to the military community and has spent countless hours supporting veterans through various charitable activities.Reed recently performed his song “The American Veteran” during the National Salute
to Hospitalized Veterans in Nashville. Reed also surprised the residents of a Murfreesboro long-term health care facility by staging an impromptu performance during the 2006 holiday season. He continues to participate in events that support veterans in his local community.
*The Silver Helmet Award is an annual award presented by AMVETS that recognizes individuals and organizations that have gone above and beyond in their service to the veterans’ community. It was presented to Reed on 3 March 2008. He died on Monday, 1 September 2008. God bless you Jerry and HOOAH!!! JG
Monday, September 1, 2008
Please read "Love American VS Korean Style Parts 1&2" before reading this so as to be up to snuff when reading this most recent installment in the love of JihadGene's life.
Where did we last leave off? Oh yeah, "Operation Birthday Party". Well, it cost me but I was assured I would be rewarded with the company of the future Mrs Jihad (Kim). I was on fire! I was all shook up! A hunka-hunka bruning love, was I.
I'm headed for first base!
Now it's Saturday night and "Operation Birthday Party" is in full swing!
I must tell you that Korean men, when they party, they party like they fight. Completely INSANE!
About two hours into the party, and with things going smoothly, Korean Birthday Boy is STINKO drunk off his can, wants to fight all the men in attendance, and dance with all the ladies. Birthday Boy pukes all over the place, including on several of the party attendees. One of which was Kim! She was puked on, yet she was gracious. Wow! What a gal. My beautiful but puked on date, Kim, now has to leave and get cleaned up. She told me she was going home now. ALONE. The party's over. She shook my hand, smiled, and said goodbye. I asked her when I would see her again, she only said goodbye to me in Korean, which sounded surprisingly like "sayonara sucker". Goodbye... That can be a lousy word at times, and it sure was that night. She was not coming back and I couldn't blame her one bit. I sat miserably thinking I would never see her again. I kept replaying, in my minds eye, the tragic moment of the flying barf impacting on her pretty dress. Why didn't I do a Big Hoss Cartwright like on Bonanza or a Chuck Conners on The Rifleman and save the girl? If only I had foreseen the unforeseeable. I could of been a Sir Walter Raleigh ...ya know? Throwing myself in the line of fire (puke), protecting her with my cloak, and all that. I would have come out smelling like a rose, soaked in vomit, but a rose... none the less. Nope. I didn't do that. So now I'm lower than low. I see her leave in the taxi. I wave. She didn't see me, I guess. Feeling sorry for myself, I fell deep into self-pity and The Sad Sack Zone. (To be Continued)