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Tue 21 Sep, 2004 08:43 am
Ever smell something so bad, that it causes you to turn to your friend and say, "here, smell this!!!" That's kind of why I'm posting this. This has to be one of the most retarded emails I've gotten in a long time. I love these emails written by some loser framing it as a true story.
I don't know what's worse, the actual email, or the fact that someone I know fowarded this to me, obviously thinking it was the "patriotic" thing to do.
>>"Don't Close Your Blinds!"
>>
>> The other day, my nine year old son wanted to know why we were at
>>war.
>>My husband looked at our son and then looked at me. My husband and
>>I
>>were in the Army during the Gulf War and we would be honored to
>>serve
>>and defend our Country again today. I knew that my husband would
>>give
>>him a good explanation.
>>
>> My husband thought for a few minutes and then told my son to go
>>stand
>>in our front living room window. He told him: "Son, stand there and
>>tell
>>me what you see?"
>>
>> "I see trees and cars and our neighbor's houses." he replied.
>>
>> "OK, now I want you to pretend that our house and our yard is the
>>United States of America and you are President Bush."
>>
>> Our son giggled and said "OK."
>>
>> "Now son, I want you to look out the window and pretend that
>>every
>>house and yard on this block is a different country" my husband
>>said.
>>
>> "OK Dad, I'm pretending."
>>
>> "Now I want you to stand there and look out the window and see
>>that man
>>come out of his house with his wife and he has her by the hair and
>>is
>>hitting her. You see her bleeding and crying. He hits her in the
>>face,
>>he throws her on the ground, then he starts to kick her to death.
>>Their
>>children run out and are afraid to stop him, they are crying, they
>>are
>>watching this but do nothing because they are kids and afraid of
>>their
>>father. You see all of this son.... what do you do?"
>>
>> "Dad?"
>>
>> "What do you do son?"
>>
>> "I call the police, Dad."
>>
>> "OK. Pretend that the police are the United Nations and they take
>>your
>>call, listen to what you know and saw but they refuse to help. What
>>do
>>you do then son?"
>>
>> "Dad, but the police are supposed to help!" My son starts to
>>whine.
>>
>> "They don't want to son, because they say that it is not their
>>place or
>>your place to get involved and that you should stay out of it," my
>>husband says.
>>
>> "But Dad...he killed her!!" my son exclaims.
>>
>> "I know he did...but the police tell you to stay out of it. Now I
>>want
>>you to look out that window and pretend you see our neighbor who
>>you're
>>pretending is Saddam turn around and do the same thing to his
>>children."
>>
>>
>> "Daddy...he kills them?"
>>
>> "Yes son, he does. What do you do?"
>>
>> "Well, if the police don't want to help, I will go and ask my
>>next door
>>neighbor to help me stop him." our son says.
>>
>> "Son, our next door neighbor sees what is happening and refuses
>>to get
>>involved as well. He refuses to open the door and help you stop
>>him," my
>>husband says.
>>
>> "But Dad, I NEED help!!! I can't stop him by myself!!"
>>
>> "WHAT DO YOU DO SON?" Our son starts to cry.
>>
>> "OK, no one wants to help you, the man across the street saw you
>>ask
>>for help and saw that no one would help you stop him. He stands
>>taller
>>and puffs out his chest. Guess what he does next son?" "What
>>Daddy?"
>>
>> "He walks across the street to the old ladies house and breaks
>>down her
>>door and drags her out, steals all her stuff and sets her house on
>>fire
>>and then...he kills her. He turns around and sees you standing in
>>he
>>window and laughs at you. WHAT DO YOU DO?"
>>
>> "Daddy..."
>>
>> "WHAT DO YOU DO?"
>>
>> Our son is crying and he looks down and he whispers, "I close the
>>blinds, Daddy."
>>
>> My husband looks at our son with tears in his eyes and asks
>>him...
>>"Why?"
>>
>> "Because Daddy.....the police are supposed to help...people who
>>needs
>>it....and they won't help....You always say that neighbors are
>>supposed
>>to HELP neighbors, but they won't help either...they won't help me
>>stop
>>him...I'm afraid....I can't do it by myself ...Daddy.....I can't
>>look
>>out my window and just watch him do all these terrible things
>>and...and.....do nothing...so....I'm just going to close the
>>blinds....so I can't see what he's doing........and I'm going to
>>pretend
>>that it is not happening."
>>
>> I start to cry.
>>
>> My husband looks at our nine year old son standing in the window,
>>looking pitiful and ashamed at his answers to my husbands questions
>>and
>>he tells him...."Son"
>>
>>"Yes, Daddy."
>>
>> "Open the blinds because that man.... he's at your front
>>door..."WHAT
>>DO YOU DO?"
>>
>> My son looks at his father, anger and defiance in his eyes. He
>>balls up
>>his tiny fists and looks his father square in the eyes, without
>>hesitation he says: "I DEFEND MY FAMILY DAD!! I'M NOT GONNA LET HIM
>>HURT
>>MOMMY OR MY SISTER, DAD!!! I'M GONNA FIGHT HIM, DAD, I'M GONNA
>>FIGHT
>>HIM!!!!!"
>>
>> I see a tear roll down my husband's cheek and he grabs my son to
>>his
>>chest and hugs him tight, and cries..."It's too late to fight him,
>>he's
>>too strong and he's already at YOUR front door son.....you should
>>have
>>stopped him BEFORE he killed his wife. You have to do what's right,
>>even
>>if you have to do it alone, before......it's too late." my husband
>>whispers.
>>
>>THAT scenario I just gave you is WHY we are at war with Iraq. When
>>good
>>men stand by and let evil happen is the greatest EVIL of all. Our
>>President is doing what is right. We, as a free nation, must
>>understand
>>that this war is a war of humanity. WE must remove evil men from
>>power
>>so that we can continue to live in a free world where we are not
>>afraid
>>to look out our window. So that my nine year old son won't grow up
>>in a
>>world where he feels that if he just "closes" that blinds the
>>atrocities in the world won't affect him. "YOU MUST NEVER BE AFRAID
>>TO
>>DO WHAT IS RIGHT! EVEN IF YOU HAVE TO DO IT ALONE!"
>>
>>BE PROUD TO BE AN AMERICAN! BE PROUD OF OUR TROOPS!! BE PROUD OF
>>OUR
>>PRESIDENT SUPPORT THEM!!! SUPPORT AMERICA!! SO THAT IN THE FUTURE
>>OUR
>>CHILDREN WILL NEVER HAVE TO CLOSE THEIR BLINDS...."
Oh man.
That is horrible.
How does Pakistan and North Korea and Africa and...
Oh never mind.
Horrible.
(Not to mention the whole bullying dad making his kid cry subtext. yechhh!)
No offense Slappy but that's the grossest thing you've ever posted and maaaan....you are the king o' nasty
I hate this kind of claptrap.
Jeeez, Slappy.
Remind me never to smell anything you hand me ever again.
You're right, that is retarded.
Part 2:
As our family embraced in tearful resolve and love for our dear president, my husband sat our little nine year old son down to finish the lesson.
"Son", he said, "now that you know that the police won't protect you and that the neighbors won't help you, its time we men went to the gun store to buy some assault weapons."
I dried my tears and opened the blinds so that I could watch my men as they strolled hand in hand to the truck on their mission to protect our consitution.
I knew that I had to find a way to express my patriotism too.
I grabbed my charge card and headed to the Veterans day sale at the mall.
Who needs health insurance when shoes are on sale?
smells like ass......what a dick!!!
Here's what my buddy sent back to me, after I sent it to him(Ese, anyone?)
"That damn thing left a tear in my eye, man. God bless George Dubya.
So, I continue to tell my son that a block away, the neighborhood has gone crazy. People are being killed by the hundreds of thousands in a brutal fight. Women and children are suffering from poverty, starvation and disease and no one is doing anything about but continuing the fighting. And I ask, "What do you do then, son?"
"F*ck 'em they're black and don't have oil."
"That's right, son. That's right.'"
All I got from this is that I can look inside Slappy's windows at any time. I did, and the midget looked scared.
Somebody hold me.
What?!? No mention of WMDs?
Well, the actual story was that the prez looked out the window and heard a neighbor yell that Joe Schmo across the street had a bazooka in his basement. The prez called the police and they said they were busy so the prez said never mind and crossed the street, entered the house, killed everybody in it and found Joe cowering in the cellar. Never could locate that bazooka though...a real pity.
Joe sure has a nice garage that we can use tho. And I heard something about there being oil on his land...
Cycloptichorn
Hmmm.... My understanding is that Joe Schmo was holed up in his cellar for weeks by his neighbor, who was holding out for money and special favors from the Prez.
But I could be wrong.
here's another take, from Mr Piffka:
Think of all the nations and political entities in the world as kids on a school playground:
America is the big "fat dumb & happy" kid, (physical fatness being but a symptom of the underlying energy-guzzling American economic engine), generally well-liked, as rich kids tend to be, and pretty much the life of the playground party. For the last five minutes (the Sanctions), we've been picking on this no-good gypsy kid (Iraq) that was helping us pick on another kid (Iran) we liked even less during the last recess, while the rest of the kids on the playground either stand around watching (France, Germany), hoping we won't decide to pick on them next (Syria, Iran, Pakistan, Yemen), or suck up to us and help kick Iraq (Britain) or cheer us on (Poland, Australia, Japan) because they want to be us or because they fear us (...and I remember that playground, too).
Then there's this skinny, squeezy-lookin' kid that America frankly hasn't been paying much attention to, hanging out back behind the monkey bars, who walks up and pow! punches America in the nose. Blood all over our shirt, and if you've ever been punched in the nose, you know how debilitating it is. I've heard you can drive off sharks that way. If it weren't for the fact that we grew up as the late-born child of a big family (Europe) and used to a lot of pushing and shoving, a bloody nose like that might have really intimidated us.
George's America comes up swinging wildly at the offender and lands a couple of glancing blows. We're still breathing hard and out of the corner of our eye we see that goddamned gypsy kid with just a threat of a smirk on his face, and pow! we slug the gypsy kid. Like the guy who gets reamed by a customer at work, then comes home and kicks the dog.*
Then we turn back to the **** that gave us the bloody nose, and he's vanished.
Some say we should call in the zombie-like senator from Massachusetts, and if he doesn't get it going, then four years from now, we give McCain a whack at it. Might as well tell the whole bullpen to start warming up; it's going to be a long game.
But the reason George will win this election is that the number one thing many Americans want right now is to seize the enemy by the throat and clobber him but good, and feel it unnecessary to change ourselves, let alone our president, in order to accomplish this. America's votes will in some part be cast not as votes for either candidate, but as a message to the enemy, that we will not be intimidated, and that it is not worth the reversal of even the worst American decision ever made to accommodate our enemy's pathetic agenda. And that whatsoever our enemy despises the most, we shall now willingly be, if it permits us to hack the scourge of Islamic fundamentalism loose from the body politic. Some American voters are spoiling for a fight, and will choose Bush simply to give Osama the finger. There are enough of that type of voter to turn what would have been a tight race into a Republican landslide - that is my prediction, in which I would be happy to be incorrect.
I, of course, will continue on as a voice crying in the wilderness of our hillbilly nation, as the great petroleum-powered Bus of State sails majestically off the cliff of failed energy/environmental policy, with unruffled, reassuring, confidence-inspiring George smiling behind the wheel.
I love these liberal train wrecks where each liberal piles on...
It's fascinating.
Speaking of piling on: the master has arrived. Are you gonna stand there and watch or throw your monkeywrench on the tracks?
McGentrix, so you'd like to defend that email? Go for it!
Piffka, some good insights from the Mr. Why doesn't he post here? I remember when you both used the same account on Abuzz... confusing!
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