"Now, this is the kind of peace-loving 'man' we need to produce more of!"
"Now, this is the kind of peace-loving 'man' we need to produce more of!"
Freaks, weirdos, and perverts welcome. All others stay home.
Where’s My America?
My America
We came by sea
We are the Pilgrims of
The Colonies
We came from England
To worship free
And in the wilderness
Found liberty
My America
We took a stand for
Our Independence
And fought a bloody war
We are the Founders
Whose wisdom formed
The greatest Nation
Ever was born
Where’s my America?
Does she still stand?
God blessed all of us
Who touched her hand
Where’s my America?
She’d understand
The lowly soldier who
Protects this land
The times change....but the assholes are always with us..
We can thank the anti-American leftist lunatic "Professors" in our PUBLIC Universities.
Most of the worthless girlyboy bastards, wouldn't amount to a pimple on a real man's ass.
When the result of their folly manifests itself, and the real long toothed bastards of the world close in on them.....they will piss themselves in fear and wonder where the "rough unseemly warriors" have gone.....
Rudyard Kipling observed the same....
Semper Fi
Tommy
I went into a public-'ouse to get a pint o' beer,
The publican 'e up an' sez, "We serve no red-coats here."
The girls be'ind the bar they laughed an' giggled fit to die,
I outs into the street again an' to myself sez I:
O it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, go away";
But it's "Thank you, Mister Atkins", when the band begins to play,
The band begins to play, my boys, the band begins to play,
O it's "Thank you, Mister Atkins", when the band begins to play.
I went into a theatre as sober as could be,
They gave a drunk civilian room, but 'adn't none for me;
They sent me to the gallery or round the music-'alls,
But when it comes to fightin', Lord! they'll shove me in the stalls!
For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, wait outside";
But it's "Special train for Atkins" when the trooper's on the tide,
The troopship's on the tide, my boys, the troopship's on the tide,
O it's "Special train for Atkins" when the trooper's on the tide.
Yes, makin' mock o' uniforms that guard you while you sleep
Is cheaper than them uniforms, an' they're starvation cheap;
An' hustlin' drunken soldiers when they're goin' large a bit
Is five times better business than paradin' in full kit.
Then it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, 'ow's yer soul?"
But it's "Thin red line of 'eroes" when the drums begin to roll,
The drums begin to roll, my boys, the drums begin to roll,
O it's "Thin red line of 'eroes" when the drums begin to roll.
We aren't no thin red 'eroes, nor we aren't no blackguards too,
But single men in barricks, most remarkable like you;
An' if sometimes our conduck isn't all your fancy paints,
Why, single men in barricks don't grow into plaster saints;
While it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, fall be'ind",
But it's "Please to walk in front, sir", when there's trouble in the wind,
There's trouble in the wind, my boys, there's trouble in the wind,
O it's "Please to walk in front, sir", when there's trouble in the wind.
You talk o' better food for us, an' schools, an' fires, an' all:
We'll wait for extry rations if you treat us rational.
Don't mess about the cook-room slops, but prove it to our face
The Widow's Uniform is not the soldier-man's disgrace.
For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Chuck him out, the brute!"
But it's "Saviour of 'is country" when the guns begin to shoot;
An' it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' anything you please;
An' Tommy ain't a bloomin' fool -- you bet that Tommy sees!
-- Rudyard Kipling
Nothing but a rich little white girl sucking up to minorities to be popular.
Tyrants across the globe are undoubtedly laughing at how they have transformed a nation of Free riflemen into a nation of selfish weaklings. All without firing a shot.
That's the bad news.
The good news is there are still enough riflemen left here to ruin the day of any would-be tyrant.
Disgraceful...