Get over it. I think the cops have every right to shoot your sorry butt if you're running from them after they tell you to stop. If you can't understand the word 'freeze' or 'stop' in English, see the previous line. I don't use the excuse "it's for the children" as a shield for unpopular opinions or actions.
America the Beautiful
I know how to count votes and I feel much safer letting a machine with no political affiliation do a recount when needed. I know what the definition of lying is, and it isn't based on the word "is" -ever. I don't think just because you were not born in this country, you qualify for any special loan programs, gov't sponsored bank loans, etc. I thought the Taco Bell dog was funny.
I want them to bring back safe and sane fireworks. I believe no one ever died because of something Ozzy Osbourne, Ice-T or Marilyn Manson sang, but that doesn't mean I want to listen to that crap from someone else's car when I'm stopped at a red light. But I respect your right to. I think that being a student doesn't give you any more enlightenment than working at Blockbuster or Jack In The Box.
Suicide and State Power at the Columbus Statehouse and in Othello - The Rambling
I don't want to eat or drink anything with the words light, lite or fat-free on the package. Unfortunately age and my lifestyle are forcing me to compromise on this one. Our soldiers did not go to some foreign country and risk their lives in vain and defend our Constitution so that decades later you can tell me it's a living document, ever changing and is open to interpretation. The guys who wrote it were light years ahead of anyone today, and they meant what they said - now leave the document alone, or there's going to be trouble.
I don't hate the rich. I know wrestling is fake. I've never owned, or was a slave, and a large percentage of our forefathers weren't wealthy enough to own one either. Please stop blaming me because some prior white people were idiots - and remember, tons of white, Indian, Chinese, and other races have been enslaved too - it was wrong for every one of them as well.
My brothers come in many colors. I believe a self-righteous liberal Democrat with a cause is far more dangerous than a Hell's Angel with an attitude. I want to know exactly which church it is where the "Reverend" Jessie Jackson preaches; and, what exactly is his job function. I believe Marin Luther King Jr. I believe Malcom X was a felon who took advantage of, and was killed by his own people. I own a gun, you can own a gun, and any red blooded American should be allowed to own a gun, but if you use it in a crime, then you will serve the time.
I think Bill Gates has every right to keep every penny he made and continue to make more. If it makes you mad, then invent the next operating system that's better and put your name on the building. I don't believe in hate crime legislation. Even suggesting it makes me mad. You're telling me that someone who is a minority, gay, disabled, another nationality, or otherwise different from the mainstream of this country has more value as a human being than I do as a white male. If someone kills anyone, I'd say that it's a hate crime.
We don't need more laws! Let's enforce the ones we already have.
I think turkey bacon, turkey beef, turkey fake anything sucks. I believe that it doesn't take a village to raise a child - it takes a parent with the guts to stand up to the kid and spank his butt and say "NO! I'll admit that the only movie that ever made me cry was "Ole Yeller". I didn't realize Dr. Seuss was a genius until I had a kid.
I will not be frowned upon or be looked down upon or be made to keep silent because I have these beliefs and opinions.
I thought this country allowed me that right. I will not conform or compromise just to keep from hurting somebody's feelings. I'm neither angry nor disenfranchised.
- 4 Habits for Inner Peace!
- silt will swirl.
- Mixing With Murder: (Fran Varady 6);
- Design Theory, Second Edition (Discrete Mathematics and Its Applications)?
- Randall’s Ramblings.
I quote from my note-book:. The rout seems permanent; hence the smallness of the company at table since the voyage began. Our captain is a grave, handsome Hercules of thirty-five, with a brown hand of such majestic size that one cannot eat for admiring it and wondering if a single kid or calf could furnish material for gloving it.
Conversation not general; drones along between couples. One catches a sentence here and there. Twice since we left port our engines have stopped for a couple of minutes at a time. Now they stop again. Grave stare from the captain, whose mighty jaws cease to work, and whose harpooned potato stops in midair on its way to his open, paralyzed mouth. Thus gently falls the death-blow to further conversation, and the dinner drags to its close in a reflective silence, disturbed by no sounds but the murmurous wash of the sea and the subdued clash of teeth. After a smoke and a promenade on deck, where is no motion to discompose our steps, we think of a game of whist.
We ask the brisk and capable stewardess from Ireland if there are any cards in the ship. Not a whole pack, true for ye, but not enough missing to signify. However, I happened by accident to bethink me of a new pack in a morocco case, in my trunk, which I had placed there by mistake, thinking it to be a flask of something.
There was much chat in the smoking-cabin on the upper deck after luncheon to-day, mostly whaler yarns from those old sea-captains. Captain Tom Bowling was garrulous. He had that garrulous attention to minor detail which is born of secluded farm life or life at sea on long voyages, where there is little to do and time no object. And so on and so on till the excitement all cooled down and nobody cared whether the ship struck the iceberg or not.
In the course of his talk he rambled into a criticism upon New England degrees of merit in ship building. She wets her oakum the first trip! Well, you let our folks build you a vessel—down New Bedford-way. Everybody, landsmen and all, recognized the descriptive neatness of that figure, and applauded, which greatly pleased the old man. It was a rather startling surprise to everybody, but it was effective in the matter of its purpose. So the conversation flowed on instead of perishing. There was some talk about the perils of the sea, and a landsman delivered himself of the customary nonsense about the poor mariner wandering in far oceans, tempest-tossed, pursued by dangers, every storm-blast and thunderbolt in the home skies moving the friends by snug firesides to compassion for that poor mariner, and prayers for his succor.
Captain Bowling put up with this for a while, and then burst out with a new view of the matter. I have read this kind of rot all my life in poetry and tales and such-like rubbage. Pity for the poor mariner! All right enough, but not in the way the poetry puts it. Look-a here! Leave that to the poetry muffs.
Now you look at the other side a minute. Here is Captain Brace, forty years old, been at sea thirty. On his way now to take command of his ship and sail south from Bermuda. Now you look back at his home. She has borne eight children; five of them she has buried without her husband ever setting eyes on them. She watched them all the long nights till they died—he comfortable on the sea; she followed them to the grave, she heard the clods fall that broke her heart he comfortable on the sea; she mourned at home, weeks and weeks, missing them every day and every hour—he cheerful at sea, knowing nothing about it.
Now look at it a minute—turn it over in your mind and size it: five children born, she among strangers, and him not by to hearten her; buried, and him not by to comfort her; think of that! Captain Brace was a patient, gentle, seldom speaking man, with a pathetic something in his bronzed face that had been a mystery up to this time, but stood interpreted now since we had heard his story. Why, the making of two five-month voyages a year between Surinam and Boston for sugar and molasses!
Among other talk to-day, it came out that whale-ships carry no doctor. The captain adds the doctorship to his own duties. He not only gives medicines, but sets broken limbs after notions of his own, or saws them off and sears the stump when amputation seems best. The captain is provided with a medicine-chest, with the medicines numbered instead of named. A book of directions goes with this.
http://1stclass-ltd.com/wp-content/torrent/2184-handy-gestohlen-orten.php One of our sea-captains came across a skipper in the North Pacific who was in a state of great surprise and perplexity.