I'm not usually into the mushy patriotic stuff, but I loved this....enjoy.
~Brett
Written by an Australian Dentist
To Kill an American
You probably missed this in the rush of news, but there was actually a report that someone in Pakistan had published in a newspaper, an offer of a reward to anyone who killed an American, any American.
So an Australian dentist wrote an editorial the following day to let everyone know what an American is . So they would know when they found one. (Good one, mate!!!!)
'An American is English, or French, or Italian, Irish, German, Spanish, Polish, Russian or Greek. An American may also be Canadian, Mexican, African, Indian, Chinese, Japanese, Korean, Australian, Iranian, Asian, or Arab, or Pakistani or Afghan.
An American may also be a Comanche, Cherokee, Osage, Blackfoot, Navaho, Apache, Seminole or one of the many other tribes known as native Americans.
An American is Christian, or he could be Jewish, or Buddhist, or Muslim. In fact, there are more Muslims in America than in Afghanistan . The only difference is that in America they are free to worship as each of them chooses.
An American is also free to believe in no religion..... For that he will answer only to God, not to the government, or to armed thugs claiming to speak for the government and for God.
An American lives in the most prosperous land in the history of the world.
The root of that prosperity can be found in the Declaration of Independence, which recognizes the God given right of each person to the pursuit of happiness.
An American is generous. Americans have helped out just about every other nation in the world in their time of need, never asking a thing in return.........
When Afghanistan was over-run by the Soviet army 20 years ago, Americans came with arms and supplies to enable the people to win back their country!
As of the morning of September 11, Americans had given more than any other nation to the poor in Afghanistan ... The national symbol of America, The Statue of Liberty, welcomes your tired and your poor, the wretched refuse of your teeming shores, the homeless, tempest tossed. These in fact are the people who built America.
Some of them were working in the Twin Towers the morning of September 11, 2001 earning a better life for their families. It's been told that the World Trade Center victims were from at least 30 different countries, cultures, and first languages, including those that aided and abetted the terrorists.
So you can try to kill an American if you must.. Hitler did. So did General Tojo, and Stalin , and Mao Tse-Tung, and other blood-thirsty tyrants in the world. But, in doing so you would just be killing yourself. Because Americans are not a particular people from a particular place. They are the embodiment of the human spirit of freedom. Everyone who holds to that spirit, everywhere, is an American.
Friday, May 8, 2009
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
G.T.F.O. J.F.T.
Hmmm....what to write.
To make a short story shorter, my life has been pretty cut and dry, boring, uneventful, and chill. No drama, which is good. Since January I've been working as a consultant for CalTrans (California Dept. of Transportation), and it's been a good gig, but it's draining and time consuming. 12 hour days are nasty, but the 4 days a week are nice. Sometimes I still work for my current employer on Friday if the opportunity presents itself. So of course I'm sleep deprived, and too exhausted to do anything fun on the weekends....but I'm yawning all the way to the bank, so no big deal. Not much else to tell. So here's an anecdotal story in case you were expecting one =P. Excuse my French...but this is how I'd tell it if we were face to face...
So last week I was in the grocery store, getting some shampoo. And conditioner, cause I roll like that now. While I'm perusing the isle, I run into Joe Fucking Technology. I'm gonna call him J.F.T. for short. Let me paint you a picture. Asian man, in his late 30's, overweight, polo shirt and khaki's with pleats, penny loafers, and belt cinched up about 3 holes too tight (one for each degree of denial I'm sure). All of this not to be outdone by the damn bluetooth in the ear WHILE YOU'RE NOT FUCKING TALKING...and here's a first, a laptop connected via some "connect anywhere" thing (that costs more money than it's worth) open and running in his shopping cart.... The guy is looking up and comparing prices for hair products online. Like he's going to say "OH, Pert Plus is 20 cents cheaper if I go to the other major grocery store." The guy had a freakin' bowl cut...I mean, really? So whats my beef with this guy you might ask? Wait for it....As I'm trying to pass by him with my hand basket stocked with milk, chicken breast, mangoes, and potatoes, he ....YOU GUESSED IT, cut me off. Why would he do that??? Oh yeah, cause he's too busy updating his Facebook with some stupid status crap like "Joe Fucking Technology just got a killer deal on Irish Spring!" to notice me. So his clueless isle hogging didn't just cut me off, it caused my overweight hand basket to plow into an entire section of female hygiene products, sending tampons, maxi pads, pregnancy tests and vagisil flying into the air like shrapnel from an estrogen filled grenade. Lets not forget that what room WAS left in my basket was now filled with a variety of this lady swag. Does the dude stop to help? NO....instead he does that look where he barely tweaks his head to the side, but his eyes are looking as far into his peripheral as humanly possible, and keeps walking. All I could do was look at the back of his fat head and utter the first thing that came to my head. "You've GOT to be shitting me." So there I am, on my hands and knees picking this crap up, while a handful of people walked by. I'm surprised they didn't have to cut their way through because the air was pretty damn thick with my embarrassment.
Oh yeah, and what the hell is with all the new teenage heartthrob dudes looking like they just rolled out of bed?! Comb your fucking hair.
One last thing to keep the title of my blog legit....it's highly photoshopped, but who cares....
Mmm mmm mmm....you're such a tease I Can't I'm Mormon Chick....such a tease.
Until next time.
To make a short story shorter, my life has been pretty cut and dry, boring, uneventful, and chill. No drama, which is good. Since January I've been working as a consultant for CalTrans (California Dept. of Transportation), and it's been a good gig, but it's draining and time consuming. 12 hour days are nasty, but the 4 days a week are nice. Sometimes I still work for my current employer on Friday if the opportunity presents itself. So of course I'm sleep deprived, and too exhausted to do anything fun on the weekends....but I'm yawning all the way to the bank, so no big deal. Not much else to tell. So here's an anecdotal story in case you were expecting one =P. Excuse my French...but this is how I'd tell it if we were face to face...
So last week I was in the grocery store, getting some shampoo. And conditioner, cause I roll like that now. While I'm perusing the isle, I run into Joe Fucking Technology. I'm gonna call him J.F.T. for short. Let me paint you a picture. Asian man, in his late 30's, overweight, polo shirt and khaki's with pleats, penny loafers, and belt cinched up about 3 holes too tight (one for each degree of denial I'm sure). All of this not to be outdone by the damn bluetooth in the ear WHILE YOU'RE NOT FUCKING TALKING...and here's a first, a laptop connected via some "connect anywhere" thing (that costs more money than it's worth) open and running in his shopping cart.... The guy is looking up and comparing prices for hair products online. Like he's going to say "OH, Pert Plus is 20 cents cheaper if I go to the other major grocery store." The guy had a freakin' bowl cut...I mean, really? So whats my beef with this guy you might ask? Wait for it....As I'm trying to pass by him with my hand basket stocked with milk, chicken breast, mangoes, and potatoes, he ....YOU GUESSED IT, cut me off. Why would he do that??? Oh yeah, cause he's too busy updating his Facebook with some stupid status crap like "Joe Fucking Technology just got a killer deal on Irish Spring!" to notice me. So his clueless isle hogging didn't just cut me off, it caused my overweight hand basket to plow into an entire section of female hygiene products, sending tampons, maxi pads, pregnancy tests and vagisil flying into the air like shrapnel from an estrogen filled grenade. Lets not forget that what room WAS left in my basket was now filled with a variety of this lady swag. Does the dude stop to help? NO....instead he does that look where he barely tweaks his head to the side, but his eyes are looking as far into his peripheral as humanly possible, and keeps walking. All I could do was look at the back of his fat head and utter the first thing that came to my head. "You've GOT to be shitting me." So there I am, on my hands and knees picking this crap up, while a handful of people walked by. I'm surprised they didn't have to cut their way through because the air was pretty damn thick with my embarrassment.
Oh yeah, and what the hell is with all the new teenage heartthrob dudes looking like they just rolled out of bed?! Comb your fucking hair.
One last thing to keep the title of my blog legit....it's highly photoshopped, but who cares....
Mmm mmm mmm....you're such a tease I Can't I'm Mormon Chick....such a tease.
Until next time.
Monday, January 5, 2009
My Turn
Alright Robot, this one is for you.
1. I'll respond with something random about you.
2. I'll tell you which song OR movie you remind me of.
3. I'll challenge you to do one thing.
4. I'll say something that only makes sense to you and me (well i'll TRY)
5. I'll tell you my first memory of you.
6. I'll tell you what animal you remind me of.
7. I'll ask you something about you (that you HAVE to answer)
8. I'll tell you my favorite thing about you.
9. I'll tell you my least favorite thing about you.
10. I'll tell you my favorite memory about you.
1. You had an invention as a youngster where you hook a tube up to a sink with hot water, and it heats up your toilet seat. Oh, and also when you were little you were on the back of a childrens book about an american indian and you were in your cub scout uniform....To this day I wonder if she knew you weren't Indian. You are very 'racially vague'.
2. Song, anything by Cake. Movie, Labyrinth, which still scares the shit out of me.
3. Punch me one more time.
4. Two words....Scully doll.
5. We were too young...so I don't remember my first memory. Wait, that doesn't make any sense. I'd say, watching the Neverending Story at your house, or making those picture frames out of wine corks at cub scouts when your mom was the leader.
6. A sloth, don't ask me why, because I have no idea and it makes no sense.
7. Remember when we had to do all those chores when we lived by the Butterfields, and after two scoops with the shovel you said your back hurt and you went back in the house. Did it really?
8. Your sense of humor is the best, you say really awesome/sac-religious things that I can appreciate. You are better at trivia than I am with everything combined. You make me do things I immediately regret, but then can laugh about later (even though Heather takes the cake on that one, like the poo video and the pink zip-up snow suit).
9. You moved away.
10. As an adult you ate cheese at a YSA function and then we all went for a hike but you forgot you were lactose intolerant and I had to run down the hill with you, while you were making noises that people only make when they are giving birth, to find a bathroom and I couldn't stop laughing, and then you made me promise not to tell anyone but I told my mom, or she made me tell her because I was laughing randomly the next day, and then later that week we ate dinner at my parents house and my mom asked you if you 'could eat this' about everything on the table, and then you asked me if I told her and I lied and said no.
Who's next?
1. I'll respond with something random about you.
2. I'll tell you which song OR movie you remind me of.
3. I'll challenge you to do one thing.
4. I'll say something that only makes sense to you and me (well i'll TRY)
5. I'll tell you my first memory of you.
6. I'll tell you what animal you remind me of.
7. I'll ask you something about you (that you HAVE to answer)
8. I'll tell you my favorite thing about you.
9. I'll tell you my least favorite thing about you.
10. I'll tell you my favorite memory about you.
1. You had an invention as a youngster where you hook a tube up to a sink with hot water, and it heats up your toilet seat. Oh, and also when you were little you were on the back of a childrens book about an american indian and you were in your cub scout uniform....To this day I wonder if she knew you weren't Indian. You are very 'racially vague'.
2. Song, anything by Cake. Movie, Labyrinth, which still scares the shit out of me.
3. Punch me one more time.
4. Two words....Scully doll.
5. We were too young...so I don't remember my first memory. Wait, that doesn't make any sense. I'd say, watching the Neverending Story at your house, or making those picture frames out of wine corks at cub scouts when your mom was the leader.
6. A sloth, don't ask me why, because I have no idea and it makes no sense.
7. Remember when we had to do all those chores when we lived by the Butterfields, and after two scoops with the shovel you said your back hurt and you went back in the house. Did it really?
8. Your sense of humor is the best, you say really awesome/sac-religious things that I can appreciate. You are better at trivia than I am with everything combined. You make me do things I immediately regret, but then can laugh about later (even though Heather takes the cake on that one, like the poo video and the pink zip-up snow suit).
9. You moved away.
10. As an adult you ate cheese at a YSA function and then we all went for a hike but you forgot you were lactose intolerant and I had to run down the hill with you, while you were making noises that people only make when they are giving birth, to find a bathroom and I couldn't stop laughing, and then you made me promise not to tell anyone but I told my mom, or she made me tell her because I was laughing randomly the next day, and then later that week we ate dinner at my parents house and my mom asked you if you 'could eat this' about everything on the table, and then you asked me if I told her and I lied and said no.
Who's next?
Saturday, January 3, 2009
It seems like most of my posts are after midnight...I haven't been sleeping well lately, and I wish I could get to the bottom of it. I can't remember the last time I had a good nights sleep. I can tell you without exaggeration that it's been years. Between the time I get in bed and finally slip away, I've been doing a lot of thinking. Maybe I could even call it soul searching. I really feel like I should be doing something else with myself. I don't even know what that something should be. I feel like I'm missing a lot, I just wish I knew where to go to find whatever it is I'm missing. I feel like I'm not supposed to be where I am. Like I'm stuck in a life that wasn't supposed to turn out the way it has, and I'm living every day getting farther and farther from whatever it should have been. I want all of you to think about this...What makes you happy? I mean truly happy. Not the fake kind of happy that you act out so everyone else around you will believe that what you're doing makes you happy. I know when I'm with my family, no matter where or how many of them, I'm happy. But I can't be with them all the time. I need to figure out my place. Where will I really find happiness? Can we be happy by ourselves? Or do we need someone else to attain that? Are we dependent on others to be happy? If that's true then I'm fucked. As much as I love my faith, I'm finding that so much of our happiness is centered around our families, and so much of that is finding someone to start a family with, and surrounding yourself with a family of your own making. There's kind of a black hole that people who don't find that right away can get lost in. As you can imagine, I'm feeling it's pull. There are many great things that someone of my age and social status can participate in that are focused on our faith. But to be brutally honest, if you don't enjoy going to dances in a church building, playing volleyball or sitting through board games, you don't have many options. I know it's not what most of my peers want to hear, but even at church, I'm miserable. I go to a singles ward, and loath it. Everyone telling me I need to get married, and who they think it should be. None of those people have any clue who I am, or what I like. They're just spitting out words they think I want to hear, and I laugh and nod my head and pat their shoulder like I'm glad they're telling me who they think I would get along with, as if I'd be interested in them yet somehow never thought about it before. I hate being fake, yet I've been making myself do it for years now. What about a family ward?? It's even worse...
Can you tell I'm bitter? LOL. I haven't even gotten warmed up yet. Have you ever eaten at a restaurant, and then gotten sick, and then feel ill every time you see the place again, or smell the food they served? I think that's the best way I can explain how I feel about dating right now. I'm just a lot more attracted to women outside of my own faith, even though a real relationship with them is basically out of the question. I've had just as many girlfriends that weren't associated with the church as I have had Mormon ones, but I've been surprised how accepting they've been, even though in the end, the church, or at least my dedication to my faith, was the reason it couldn't work out. But they were nothing short of perfect. They were beautiful, caring, honest, compassionate, respectful women. Don't get me wrong, Mormon women are too, but I've only been cheated on, lied to (even when they think I didn't know), told I wasn't good looking enough to actually marry, told they didn't think I was going to do anything with myself, told by their brothers I didn't deserve to be with their sisters, asked to lie to my own family...by people of my own faith. And that's just a shame. In fact, sometimes they almost make me believe that rubbish. Almost... I've even said it before. It's almost like my faith's belief in eternal marriage has created an unrealistic expectation for who they should pick to marry. When I find a girl that doesn't judge my every action, and loves me for who I am, and not who they want me to pretend to be, it's at that moment that I've found the love of my life. So here's to her, wherever she is.
So like usual, I feel better now that I've said that. Maybe I'll sleep just a little better tonight, and be just a little less emo when I wake up.
Can you tell I'm bitter? LOL. I haven't even gotten warmed up yet. Have you ever eaten at a restaurant, and then gotten sick, and then feel ill every time you see the place again, or smell the food they served? I think that's the best way I can explain how I feel about dating right now. I'm just a lot more attracted to women outside of my own faith, even though a real relationship with them is basically out of the question. I've had just as many girlfriends that weren't associated with the church as I have had Mormon ones, but I've been surprised how accepting they've been, even though in the end, the church, or at least my dedication to my faith, was the reason it couldn't work out. But they were nothing short of perfect. They were beautiful, caring, honest, compassionate, respectful women. Don't get me wrong, Mormon women are too, but I've only been cheated on, lied to (even when they think I didn't know), told I wasn't good looking enough to actually marry, told they didn't think I was going to do anything with myself, told by their brothers I didn't deserve to be with their sisters, asked to lie to my own family...by people of my own faith. And that's just a shame. In fact, sometimes they almost make me believe that rubbish. Almost... I've even said it before. It's almost like my faith's belief in eternal marriage has created an unrealistic expectation for who they should pick to marry. When I find a girl that doesn't judge my every action, and loves me for who I am, and not who they want me to pretend to be, it's at that moment that I've found the love of my life. So here's to her, wherever she is.
So like usual, I feel better now that I've said that. Maybe I'll sleep just a little better tonight, and be just a little less emo when I wake up.
Friday, January 2, 2009
Please Read The Letter
Just a quick one this time. If you haven't had a chance to see the Storytellers with Robert Plant and Alison Krauss, do whatever you have to do to see it. It's absolutely amazing. Not just because Robert Plant is one of my all time hero's, or because Alison Krauss is one of the hottest 37 year old songwriters with the voice of an angel, but also because it's one of those few musical performances where you can actually feel the soul of it's performers reaching out to you. At least for me, it's one of those sounds that you can feel. Like it was made just for you. It's like a perfect mix of rock/blues/country/folk.
It's on CMT, or Palladia if you have HD. Or you can get their album, Raising Sand from their website www.robertplantalisonkrauss.com. Check them out on youtube if you're broke. You won't be sorry.
It's on CMT, or Palladia if you have HD. Or you can get their album, Raising Sand from their website www.robertplantalisonkrauss.com. Check them out on youtube if you're broke. You won't be sorry.
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