The Search for the IMAO T-Shirt Babe: Mach II

As you all know, the lovely and talented SarahK turned a corner early this morning–yes, the dreaded 30th birthday. We all looked the other way when she turned 29 last year, but letting her continue her reign into her 30s just seems sarcastic. Therefore, without further ado, I now officially open nominations for the IMAO T-Shirt Babe: Mach II!
So, ladies, you are probably asking yourself what you need to do to be the IMAO T-Shirt Babe, Mach II. First, be a babe (under 25 preferred-I don’t want to switch our babe again until well into the next Presidential administration). Second, have a photo taken displaying your babeness (extra credit for body shots). Third, to prove your babeness, write a short (200 words or less) hawkish statement (though, frankly, if you are blonde scorcher, skip the essay).
So spread the word, ring the bells, and notify the press; the contest has begun. Good luck to all participants, though only one will achieve the immortality that is being the IMAO T-Shirt Babe: Mach II.
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Fun Trivia

Hezbollah rockets have now hit the city of Nazareth. What famous person hails from that city?

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I’m Not Aloof; I’m The Loof

SarahK says I’m a bit too aloof with my readers. I thought it was okay that I quietly read all your comments and e-mails, but do you people actually expect me to respond or something? I once tried responding to every comment back when I started my blog, but that quickly became overwhelming.
Frankly, I think everyone should be happy that I watch over you all quietly… like a god!
UPDATE: More to the point, I should mention that nothing motivates me to write more than comments (especially when I got out on limb and do something different like with writing a story). I’m afraid that by being aloof, people are less motivated to comment and thus I kill my own inspiration.

Another Failure of Child Safety Locks on Guns

Twelve-year-old fends off burglars with a gun.

A Story, Bit by Bit
Hellbender: Part 17 – Blind

BEGINNING OF STORY
PREVIOUS (PART 16)


“Did someone just get shot?”
Charlene was worried for a moment, but then she could hear the voice of Bryce continuing to prattle on. She’d figure he’d have been shot before Lulu. “Maybe,” Charlene answered Doug in an unconcerned tone as possible and then gave him a warning glance to remind him that he wasn’t supposed to do any talking.
Doug certainly didn’t seem like a very bright fellow. He was nice enough, though, and completely harmless as far as Charlene could tell… which meant he was a horrible person to bring into a situation where combat was likely. Still, he had come to her aid when she captured the battlemech the other day, and Charlene figured he may be of some use she had yet to fathom.
They took an elevator to the building’s basement, and Charlene spent the time contemplating how in the world she had ended up here. Yes, she was doing what looked to be an important mission for the Proserpine government (or at least she hoped it was for them), but it just made her feel so dirty to being doing mercenary work. What made it all the worse was that it was architected by a sleaze who rightfully should have been executed by the state years ago.
They exited the elevator into yet another sterile looking hallway.
Charlene knew there was no one to blame for this more than herself. It probably all was set in motion when she made friend with Lulu, she thought. She had been fine in the military before without any friends, spending her free time training to better herself. It was nice enough having someone to go shopping and chat with, but it was obvious to her now that it had all weakened her on the more important matters. How else could she explain that she was now infiltrating an enemy base as a mercenary?
Still, she had a job to do, and she would give it her full commitment.
Ahead of them were a number of scared looking men and women being ushered into a prison area. Charlene ignored it, but she noticed Doug watching them with concern. And, once again, he forgot to shut up. “Who are they?”
“They’re here in case we need human test subjects,” Carlson, their armed chaperone, answered.
Doug looked horrified. “Why them? What did they do?”
“Who cares?” Charlene quickly answered and hit Doug in the shoulder as a reminder to be quiet.
It worked, but not for long. After staring into the prison area for a short while, Doug whispered into Charlene’s ear, “Someone should help them.”
“If helping these people were of any interest, then Empress Proserpine would do so. Plus, far as we know, they deserve their fate.” They didn’t look like hardcore criminals, but looks were often deceiving.
“I bet not; this seems like an evil place. I don’t think anybody is going to help them unless we do… so I think that means we should try.”
Charlene tried to give Doug as fierce a glare as she could manage. “No. Now shut up.”
Carlson walked up next to them. “What are you two chatting about?”
Charlene turned her fierce glare to him. “None of your business. Just take us to the surveillance room.”
Their chaperone was certainly a threat if trouble broke out. It was obvious from how he carried himself and how his eyes assessed Charlene and Doug that he knew combat. He was also physically large, which was a further threat. If things happened quickly, Charlene guns were too concealed for her to be able to access them before Carlson could get off a shot. That meant she’d have to disable him hand to hand. Charlene was under no illusion that her small frame wasn’t a large disadvantage in that situation, but she had practiced long and hard about using her strength to the fullest against a larger opponent’s weak points.
The surveillance room consisted of a number of computers, numerous monitors, and two female technicians chatting (Pitt and Landers as said their nametags; each had a holstered handgun, but they didn’t appear to be big threats). There wasn’t much need of them to actually watch the monitors as computers did most of the scanning for anything unusual. When the technicians looked toward Doug and Charlene, they didn’t hide their dislike. “So what is this about?” Landers said. “I see you already left a body count.”
“It’s a surprise security inspection,” Charlene said. “Hopefully you two are doing your jobs properly and we won’t have to increase that body count.”
Pitt laughed. “Unlikely. Dumalt is coming by today. He never has come by without killing someone. I hope he just kills one of the prisoners this time; we can sometimes hear them from here and that gets annoying.”
Landers turned pale. “Last time Dumalt was here, he ripped someone’s head off.”
Charlene could tell from the woman’s expression that she didn’t mean that figuratively. Charlene didn’t know the mechanics involved in ripping someone’s head off, but she did know this Dumalt character was likely someone important… and thus someone who wouldn’t fall for Bryce’s shtick. Time was now of the essence. “We need to run some diagnostic software.”
Pitt frowned. “Nothing gets run on these machines without being vetted by us first… and that’s only after we see the proper paperwork.”
“But, in this case we… um…” Bryce made the BS look so easy, but it certainly wasn’t Charlene’s strong point. She could see that her hesitation already increased suspicion. Thus, she fell back on what she knew.
With a quick step back, she wrapped her arm around Carlson’s neck, bent him over backwards, and heard a satisfying snap. At the same time, she dropped her toolbox leaving a silenced pistol in her hand which she shot the two technicians with.
Doug looked confused… which seemed to be his natural expression. “That was violent.”
Charlene pulled out a disk. “I don’t like chit-chat. Anyway, there is no surveillance of the surveillance room, so we’re fine for now.” She noticed Doug had out the stupid knife in sheath he bought and held it tight.
“Who do you think Dumalt is?” he asked.
Charlene pushed a body out of the way and put the disk in the main terminal. “I don’t know, but I think we should get out of here before he arrives.” She looked to Doug, and something seemed to be on his mind.
“Do you think the Emperors are something other than regular people?”
Charlene ran the program. “I know that Empress Proserpine is, since she is divine.”
“Why do you think she’s better than the others?”
Her father fought and died for her rule, and she always assumed he had his reasons. Charlene checked a monitor to see the program’s progress. “Doug, is this discussion necessary?”
“Well… maybe. What do you know of The Great War?”
“Lots of places got nuked. Now, shut up.” Charlene came from a long line of military heroes, and her grandfather had fought in The Great War. He never said much about it – no one ever said much about the war or what came before it – but he did say one thing before he died.
The wrong side won.
He was old and crazy, though.
The surveillance room gave them good access to the security system, but not complete access. If the information they were given was correct, the cameras were all being disabled and their previous recordings wiped as the program run. She wouldn’t be able to disable an alarm, but she could change how the security system reacted to it including any notification being sent out and sealing off the front of the building while leaving them an alternate escape route.
Charlene looked away from the monitor to Doug who was actually being quiet… which worried her. He was carefully inspecting a console and then hit some buttons. “What did you just do?”
“I think… I think that released the prisoners.”
“What!”
“Hey! You killed three people; I think I should be able to hit some buttons.”
Charlene spotted surveillance of the prison and saw guards getting attacked by the dozen prisoners. One guard hit a button on the wall before getting knocked down.
An alarm now blared throughout the building.
“Idiot!” If Doug got her killed, it was going to greatly reduce her already mediocre opinion of him. She took the assault rifle off the body of Carlson. “Get your gun out, Doug; time to shoot people.”
NEXT

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Fun With Mormons

I’m at home, a head full of snot-like-ooze.
While convalescing on my couch with Marty Roberts’ podcast playing on Ziggy3, Ha’aretz on the laptop rending their garments in misery over poor innocent Hezbollah murderers and their supporters dying, and a pair of mugs on the table (orange juice/chicken soup)… a knock on the door.
Frisky freaks out, as he always does. Piper leaps from the arm of the couch and hides. (She’s been doing this a lot, since the little furry psychic freaks out half a second before I sneeze) Nardo just sits there, looking stupid as usual.
I shrug, get up, and answer it.
It’s Mormons, asking me if I’ve met Jesus Christ yet.
“Sure, I have,” I said. “I killed him. But the hippie bastard came back. Wanna tell me where he is so I can try again?”
Then I shut the door. Gotta find the kitty treats to convince the cats that it’s safe to lay around and do nothing out in the open again.

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Happy Birthday SarahK!

Today is the lovely and talented SarahK‘s birthday, so everyone give her super birthday wishes!
Do it now!

My Fault For Not Reading The Fine Print

(A Precision Guided Humor Assignment)
For some reason, I was always under the impression that the protections afforded to prisoners of war under the Geneva Convention treaty only applied to uniformed soldiers fighting for countries that signed the treaty.
Apparently you don’t have to sign the treaty.
Or wear a uniform.
But who am I to question? The courts have reached deeply into this mysterious document and discovered rights for terrorists like Lance Burton yanking doves out of his ass.
I suppose the next time the question comes up, they’ll find that terrorists have the right to:


  • A box of sand so they won’t get homesick. Used kitty litter is not an acceptable substitute.
  • A supportive visit from Cindy Sheehan (non-conjugal), and a bite of her vanilla fast cream.
  • A supportive visit from a goat (conjugal).
  • A cell phone to vote for the “America’s Got Talent” contestant of their choice and/or trigger an IED.
  • A gasoline-soaked American flag and a Zippo.
  • Only be forced to make license plates if they say “I H8 USA”.
  • A Rock hammer and a poster of Raquel Welch.
  • An iPod loaded with that hideous, screechy, wailing music they like. Anything by Kenny G will do.
  • Soprano sax?… Dude… that is TOTALLY gay.
  • A turban, or at least a stylin’ fedora.
  • Weekly viewings of “Team America: World Police” so that they can hear someone speaking in their native tongue.
  • Access to the Bush Administration’s top secret war plans. A New York Times subscription is also acceptable.
  • A Koran, a prayer mat, and a Jew to blame all their problems on.
  • A replacement Jew if that one gets blown up.

I’m pretty sure that they’re also entitled to a bullet in the head, and I think it’s a shame our troops didn’t provide that a LONG time ago.

Glenn Greenwald Has a Dumb Monkey-Face in Need of a Punching

I keep running into this Glenn Greenwald blog, and I can’t quite tell if it’s trying to be serious or satire, but it appears to be failing at both. I think his site would be greatly improved if the frontpage included a picture of Glenn Greenwald wearing a funny hat.
Discuss.

At Least It’s Not For Testicular Cancer

7-time Tour de France champion Lance Armstrong was recently quoted as saying about the French soccer team:

“All their players tested positive… for being arseholes.”

Hold your applause…
When later asked if he regretted making the statement, he replied:

“No, I don’t regret it.”

NOW you can applaud.
While you’re doing that, you can check this list of the top 10 other things the French have tested positive for:


10) Cowardice
9) Nazi complicity
8) Cheese
7) Snotty waiters
6) Wine
5) Whine
4) Black market Iraqi oil
3) Peculiar odors
2) The Holy Grail
And the #1 thing the French have tested positive for
1) Teenagers who are too lazy to work, but not too lazy to riot.

Today’s Simpsons Trivia

(Introduction)


1) Who played Homer in the film, “Homer S: Portrait of an Ass Grabber”?
2) What is the name of the hockey team Bart is on?
3) In “The Springfield Connection”, what kind of soup does Marge say is pretty exciting?
4) Bart says that after he dies, he wants to be reincarnated as what?
Official Trivia Card answers in the comments tomorrow.