Statement...

Did you know that 95% of prison inmates were sexually or physically abused or both?

A Day in the Life of a Conservative

A Day in the Life of Joe Conservative
by Anonymous

Joe gets up at 6 a.m. and fills his coffeepot with water to prepare his morning coffee. The water is clean and good because some tree-hugging liberal fought for minimum water-quality standards. With his first swallow of water, he takes his daily medication. His medications are safe to take because some stupid commie liberal fought to ensure their safety and that they work as advertised.

All but $10 of his medications are paid for by his employer's medical plan because some liberal union workers fought their employers for paid medical insurance -- now Joe gets it, too.

He prepares his morning breakfast: bacon and eggs. Joe's bacon is safe to eat because some girly-man liberal fought for laws to regulate the meat packing industry.

In the morning shower, Joe reaches for his shampoo. His bottle is properly labeled with each ingredient and its amount in the total contents because some crybaby liberal fought for his right to know what he was putting on his body and how much it contained.

Joe dresses, walks outside and takes a deep breath. The air he breathes is clean because some environmentalist wacko liberal fought for the laws to stop industries from polluting our air.

He walks on the government-provided sidewalk to the subway station for his government-subsidized ride to work. It saves him considerable money in parking and transportation fees because some fancy-pants liberal fought for affordable public transportation, which gives everyone the opportunity to be a contributor.

Joe begins his work day. He has a good job with excellent pay, medical benefits, retirement, paid holidays and vacation because some lazy liberal union members fought and died for these working standards. Joe's employer pays these standards because Joe's employer doesn't want his employees to call the union.

If Joe is hurt on the job or becomes unemployed, he'll get a worker compensation or unemployment checks because some stupid liberal didn't think he should lose his home because of his temporary misfortune.

It is noontime and Joe needs to make a bank deposit so he can pay some bills. Joe's deposit is federally insured by the FSLIC because some godless liberal wanted to protect Joe's money from unscrupulous bankers who ruined the banking system before the Great Depression.

Joe has to pay his Fannie Mae-underwritten mortgage and his below-market federal student loan because some elitist liberal decided that Joe and the government would be better off if he was educated and earned more money over his lifetime. Joe also forgets that in addition to his federally subsidized student loans, he attended a state funded university.

Joe is home from work. He plans to visit his father this evening at his farm home in the country. He gets in his car for the drive. His car is among the safest in the world because some America-hating liberal fought for car safety standards to go along with the taxpayer funded roads.

He arrives at his boyhood home. His was the third generation to live in the house financed by Farmers' Home Administration because bankers didn't want to make rural loans.

The house didn't have electricity until some big-government liberal stuck his nose where it didn't belong and demanded rural electrification.

He is happy to see his father, who is now retired. His father lives on Social Security and a union pension because some wine-drinking, cheese-eating liberal made sure he could take care of himself so Joe wouldn't have to.

Joe gets back in his car for the ride home, and turns on a radio talk show. The radio host keeps saying that liberals are bad and conservatives are good. He doesn't mention that the beloved conservatives have fought against every protection and benefit Joe enjoys throughout his day. Joe agrees: "We don't need those big-government liberals ruining our lives! After all, I'm a self-made man who believes everyone should take care of themselves, just like I have."

Liberals By Their Very Nature Want to Change Things...And they Do.

Conservatives want things to stay the same...Which one of these Liberal policies would you say damaged the country the most?


In retrospect which one of these Liberal accomplishments would you consider a failure?




1919—Women’s Suffrage Ratified [Wilson]

1920—Annette Adams, First Woman Appointed To An Administration Position
[Wilson]

1933—Federal Deposit Insurance [FDR]

1935—W.P.A. [FDR-put people to work during the depression]

1935—Social Security Act [FDR]

1938—Fair Labor Standards Act [FDR]

1944—G.I. Bill Of Rights [FDR]

1947—Military Desegregated [Truman]

1947—Marshall Plan [Truman-Rebuilt Europe after WW II]

1961—Peace Corps [John F. Kennedy]

1964—Civil Rights Act [Johnson]

1964—Medicare And Medicaid [Johnson]

1964—Fed Dept Of Housing And Urban Development [Johnson]

1965—Head Start Created [Johnson]

1968—Occupation Safety Act [Johnson]

1987—Clean Water Act [Dem Congress override of Reagan veto]

1990—Americans With Disabilities Act [Democratic Congress]

1993—Family Leave Act [Clinton]

1993—AmeriCorps [Clinton]

1996-- Largest expansion of college opportunity since the GI Bill [Clinton]

1997-- Converted the largest budget deficit in American history to the
largest surplus [Clinton]

1999-- Longest economic expansion in American history & Lowest unemployment in 30 years [Clinton]

Latest Sarah Palin Speech Opens the 6th Seal

http://www.theonion.com/content/news/latest_sarah_palin_speech_opens

Health Care...

Lets see if the healthcare bill is really dead. I'm pretty sure its just hiding in a corner waiting to come out again...Your thoughts?

Hmmm

"My enemy, my foe, is an animal. In order to conquer the animal, I have to learn to think like an animal. And, whenever possible, to look like one. I've gotta get inside this guy's pelt and crawl around for a few days."

Wait What???

Let me tell you something you fuck...As long as you believe that an invisible man lives in the sky and that snakes can talk...YOU DON'T GET TO COMMENT ON MY PERCEPTION OF REALITY...GOT IT!!! Ya fucking prick?

Todays Question

If you could change any one thing about the world...What would you change?

Some Nice Quotes About Christianity

Mohandas Gandhi
I like your Christ, I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ.

Dennis Miller
Born again?! No, I'm not. Excuse me for getting it right the first time.

Annie Dillard
Eskimo: "If I did not know about God and sin, would I go to hell?" Priest: "No, not if you did not know." Eskimo: "Then why did you tell me?"

Arthur C. Clarke
"Religion is the most malevolent of all mind viruses."

Hey Republicans...

Would Sarah Palin be as smart as you think she is if she was as ugly as she really is. Stevie Wonder said it best..."People with sight don't know what ugly really is".

Why My Father Dying Made Me a Better Man

My Father...Michael David Jones died at the age of 62. Wednesday July 4th 2007. He had cancer at the time, but the coroner said he died of a stroke. He had cancer 4 times in his life and at the time of his death was not only not eligible for radiation treatments (There is a maximum exposure limit and he had reached it) but was facing a future of more operations, and more Chemo, and was sick and tired of being sick and tired. I now know that he had quit taking his blood thinner and apparently choose to bow out gracefully rather than wither away in a bed...His terms, not anyone else's. Before he had surgery a month or so before he told me,” Don’t worry...I ain't gonna die in no fucking hospital."...and he didn't.

I had not been able to sleep that night, and had suddenly gotten pad and paper at 2:30 in the morning and written down a passage from the movie that was on TV... I was watching a movie called The Guardian and there was a scene that really accurately described the life of my father. I quickly got up, grabbed my notebook and wrote it down.

The lead character asks his bartender…Its hard gettin’ old isn’t it? To which she replies…Hell I been old all my life. If my muscles hurt it’s because I used them, and I still do to walk down the hall every night to get in bed with someone who loves me. I got a few wrinkles here and there, and I look this way because I drank and I smoked and I danced, and I sang and I sweat and I screwed my way through a pretty good life…Gettin’ old ain’t hard man…Gettin’ old is earned.

I wrote it down because I thought it was something my father would enjoy. I wrote it down because I felt like it was something I was going to need. I didn't know why at the time...I finally fell asleep about 4:30 in the morning, but abruptly awoke again at 6:30 feeling like I was supposed to be awake for something, but yet I didn’t know what. An hour and a half later I found out.

I got a call from my sister-in-law Ashley who tearfully told me my Father had died. I started trying to round up my other two brothers as my youngest was already at the scene trying to get Mom back to reality (She woke up next to him...and he was gone). Mom was just somewhere else and didn't know why the Firemen where in the house.

It was rather difficult to get in touch with my brothers...I mean would you answer the phone at 8:00AM on the morning of the 4th of July? I mean I probably wouldn't have, but I was already awake and talking on the phone to a friend of mine who lived on the east coast, and was annoyed that the other line kept ringing.

When Ashley gave me the news, I clicked back over and very matter-of-factly told my friend that I had to let him go...My Dad just died. I had to go to my Brother Jason's house, and I sent my Mom (My birth Mother, not My Mother and my Father's wife) to tell my other brother Ian. I did get a hold of some other friends and family members and we all got to the house as soon as we possibly could.

When I got there, there was already 20 or so of us Joneses there, and the coroner was back in the bedroom with Dad. Somebody asked Mom for something and she answered that she would have to get it from the bedroom and began to walk down the hall to the bedroom where my father still lay in bed. I looked around the room as if to say, "Why are you letting her go to the Bedroom?"

Nobody did anything so I walked down the hallway behind Mom. We got to the door and that's when she saw Dad...and I saw Dad. I watched my Mother weep over the body of her dead husband not having any idea what I was supposed to do, I mean who was I to stop her, or tell her what she was doing was wrong? I stood behind her looking at her and my father together for the last time.

It was strange...Dad's eyes were open, and he looked as if he were surprised. Mom kissed him goodbye, and I walked her back down the hall to the kitchen then proceeded to go outside to smoke and take a break from what was going on inside.

When I got outside I saw the coroner standing by the garage and went over to inquire about his pay rate at 8:00 AM on the 4th of July. I don't know...He was the only independent party there at the time. I continued to make small talk pretending that he actually gave a shit when he suddenly said, “I want you to know how Lucky, you and your family are...How lucky your Dad was.” Okay, I thought...This should be good. He proceeded to tell me," I do this for a living. I get a call and I have to go out and remove a body from a home...I do it a lot...but hardly ever is there anybody even there. Most of the time there's somebody there to let me in the house, but sometimes it's just the Police doing that."

By this time there was about 40 people there. The coroner said," Most of the time I feel sad that this person, whoever they were didn't have anyone who gave a shit enough to show up when they died...But all of you guys here for your Dad like this...This is just amazing. He was a lucky man to have you all, and you are lucky to have each other." He excused himself and went back in the house to do his job.

A few minutes later, My Father left his home for the last time. So there we were...All of us...Standing around crying...Looking at each other...Holding each other...When somebody said," What are we gonna do now?” What the hell did they mean? I mean Dad's dead...What the hell?

Then a close family friend said, "Look...We were gonna have a party and barbecue today right? I say we should still have it. I mean Mike would have wanted that, he wouldn't have wanted everybody to be standing here crying that's for sure...Lets have the party."

So we did...and more people came...and we talked, and we sang, and we swam, and we cried, and we yelled, and we screamed, and we played, and we laughed, and we told stories, we watched 4 generations of family and friends, we said things Dad would have said...We united as a family again, and formed a bond with each other that can never be broken having gone through that experience together. Dad dying, made us better...I mean Dad living made us better too, but something that hurt so bad, turned in to something good...Something we will have for the rest of our time together.

Upon hearing the news, my first wife drove up from Arkansas and stayed at the house with Mom for a week. She cooked, she cleaned, and she bought us booze and cigarettes. My second wife Kerry got there as soon as she could and did everything she could to help (I still consider them both members of my family somewhat like sisters).

People we knew stopped by, they hung out, they brought food, they brought stories, they brought memories, and they brought love. We knew it was important to make sure everybody who wanted to come to the funeral...could.

We had the visitation on Friday night...We stood up there for 4 hours talking to everyone who came through the line that was all the way around the parlor, down the hall, through the other parlor, out the front door, and into the parking lot of the biggest funeral home in Alton, IL...It was like that for 3 plus hours...They all waited...They all told us stories...all while a jazz trio including a guy that Dad had given his first paying music gig when the guy was 16, played in the balcony.

One guy came up and told me a story about going to High School with Dad. That when they had school dances in the late 50's and early 60's the blacks would all be on one side of the gym, and the whites were on the other. He told me, "Your Dad was one of the only people that would walk across that gap, in front of the whole school and talk to us on our side of the gym...and back then that took guts, and a lot of black folks never forgot that, and that he was one of them. He saw the obituary, and came to the funeral to tell me, his son, what my father had done.

My two ex-wives parents came and expressed their condolences. People he worked with, some I knew, some I didn't, most of whom hadn't seen me since I was a "smart mouthed 3 year old with curly hair and big blue eyes" came to talk to us, and me...now a 39 year old Man...Less the curls but still the mouth and eyes. They all told me how proud my Father was of me and how he had kept them up to date over the years as to my many accomplishments, and failures. My children saw me cry for the first time in their lives and held me...And tried to comfort me.

Saturday we had the funeral. My cousin Brian (Who is a Minister) presided over the ceremony, My Uncle Tom (Also a Minister) presided grave side. Myself and my three brothers all eulogized my Father, each in our own way. It was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do. I cried aloud and sobbed the entire 10 minutes I was at the pulpit.

When I got done I joined my mother by the casket and watched each of my brothers do the same thing, then slowly walk over and each time we would all embrace (We had done this a lot over the last few days…The five of us…in a circle…hugging and crying).

Afterwards we placed Dad in the Hearse and proceeded outside. I being the oldest son of my Father drove his car behind the hearse...I asked my oldest son to join me. He did.

As the funeral procession began to pull out on to the road and head out to the country, stopped the car...looked around... revved the engine up to about 6 grand and dropped the clutch. We peeled out and got a little sideways right there leaving the funeral home parking lot...One last act of defiance in Dad's honor...

We buried him at the cemetery by the house...Next to Grandpa...Then we had another Party.

I had forgotten how proud of me my father was. I had forgotten the feelings he expressed to me...feelings he had when he found out he was going to be a Father...That he was going to have a son...How many times he told me he loved me…The feeling I had now also had having three sons of my own...How he hoped that I would be a better than him...How I wasn't... (My birth mother had always told me that I was a selfish prick, just like my father though, so maybe there was still hope for me).

The rest of that year was horrible for me. I couldn't hold a job, I was drinking excessively doing drugs, overeating (at one point reaching 375lbs). Shortly afterwards I found out I had a 13 year old daughter I never knew about in Colorado…Shortly after that I met Cindi Crismon again.

The girl I had promised to marry in 5th grade (I think I did it just so she would kiss me), the girl who used to sneak in my window in 6th grade just to lay next to me and hold me, the girl I first slept with at 14...I was her first, she was my second...That girl was mine again...and I realized I had always loved her, and that she had always loved me. She looked at me the same way she did when I used to pull her pig tails in 3rd grade...She looked at me the way I had been when I was a kid, with hopes, and dreams, and ideas...When I thought one day I could rule the world.

She made me realize what a pessimistic, pathetic jerk-off I had become, and that I didn't like it.

We got married in January of this year. We have 6 children together and are happier than I ever thought I could be. We have a beautiful house, full of laughter, and I know when I die someday, she will cry for me like my Mom did for Dad. That the holidays in my future will be filled with my children and grandchildren, and that I am gonna need a bigger house, a bigger table, and a better job, and that I will never be taken out of my house with nobody there...That I will have a family who loves me there when I die...That I am a man my Father would be proud of...That what he used to call me, (Number One Son) is something I have to live up to…To honor him, and that one day...I will be a better man than he was, and that if I am, my children will all be better than me.

I Love you Daddy...Thank you for everything you ever taught me and tried to teach me. I miss you everyday, but because you died I am a better man.

Regan

(Your Number One Son)