i hope he kicks himself in the azz when he finds out what a stooopid thing he did...
Posted on 02/08/2011 2:35:14 PM PST by patriotgal1787
Big mistake.
Code Pink is a bunch of idiots.
i hope he kicks himself in the azz when he finds out what a stooopid thing he did...
That was my first question and then I thought about honor and self respect and stuff that leftists will never even begin to understand and I realized I would have done the same.
Admit it, so would you.
That is indeed alot of irony, but I have a feeling I wouldn’t smell it over the hippie b.o. from Code Pink.
I demand a mulligan.
Please can I have a mulligan?
Being saved was by the grace of God, whom I'm sure she thinks is a feminazi
Personally I would have preferred the Irony.
These code pinko hags will join Pancake Girl someday soon.
Its in their blood.
“Frantic, we started calling everyone we knew—local lawyers and activists, friends back home, the U.S. Embassy.”
I think you better read that line again. They called “local” lawyers and activists.... They called local (Egyptians) lawyers and activists.
The link pointed to by “working to get American soldiers killed”.
Should have left her there.
Should have left her there to rot (or worse). I use the term ‘Fellow American’ with a great deal of hesitation anymore.
Yes, that’s true. But that’s because I’m not a commie lib looking to take down the capitalistic pig. Hopefully the hag will have an epiphany and CHANGE her life.
Wouldn’t those have been Egyptian soldiers who rescued them? Why would an Egyptian checkpoint be manned by American soldiers? I know one said he trained in the U.S, but he said he loved Americans. Doesn’t sound like Americans rescued them. Also, maybe the whole thing was a pro-Mubarak rescue that was setup to rescue dimwitted, delusional Americans.
The only way it could have been better is if the only ride to the airport was an Israeli Army Bulldozer.
I cannot express in public what I think of these CP
“activists”...
This is at least the second time this female dog was rescued by the very country she despises. When are we going to stop giving sunts like these free rides out of harm’s way?
I don’t buy the story.
“They seized our passports and then four of these characters squeezed into our taxi to “take us to government headquarters.” Frantic, we started calling everyone we knew—local lawyers and activists, friends back home, the U.S. Embassy.” They seized their passports and not their cell phones? Come on who is BS’ing whom?
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!
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