This one dream i had. i was visiting a high school where i guess i was working for this new telephone company. i was with my partner and we were installing a new phone booth into one of the halls. before we were even done programming the thousands of numbers needed to program, there was a line through the whole school waiting to use this phone. it wasn't your average phone. you could dial up old conversations you'd had with someone years ago, like a loved one or former schoolmate. you just sat there and listened to the two of you talk. the phonebook was printed to give you letters you had written or once received that needed to be found and rediscovered. i woke up laughing and wishing i could get to one of those phones. i tried to get some investors and get the prototype rolling but it was a lot harder to do that was presented in my dream. but you see what i mean? i never would have come up with that in my state of awake."

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Written by Erik Kelly.

Walk up to a liberal on the street and SLAP them. They're going to want to fight you, but you say "whoa, whoa.. hold on there. You're a pacifist." Reminded of their beliefs, they compose themselves and say, "You're right. I'm sorry." So you whack them again, harder. Anger rises again, and our liberal test subject will respond with, "This is bullshit, I don't have to take this" and raise their fists. You say, "but wait, you don't believe in fighting under any circumstances, so what are you doing?" They apologize again, but keep nailing them harder, and they'll reach a point where they can't take it anymore, and you'll have a fight.

A lot of democrats think Bill Clinton was a good president, mostly because he was a liberal and he showed in one way or another that a donkey can run the United States, albeit making an ass of himself in the process. When terrorists blew a hole in the Navy Vessel USS Cole, killing 17 servicemen and wounding 39 others, Clinton read a speech in which he promised (verbatim) that "this injustice will not go unpunished. The ones responsible for this will be hunted down". I didn't catch any hunting on the news. On August 7, 1998, bombs ripped through the American embassies in Nairobi and Tanzania, killing 214 and injuring 4000. Bill Clinton said (verbatim), "these aggressors will be found and prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law". We bombed some suspected terrorist sites for a few days. Clinton slept around some more. Yawn.

When terrorists flew planes into the World Trade Towers, bringing both of the main buildings down and killing 2,795 American civilians, the new (ELECTED) president George W. Bush said (verbatim), "listen, you want to fly planes into my fuckin' buildings, be prepared to reap the whirlwind". One month later we were in Afghanistan kicking ass, ridding the world of the regime most responsible for aiding Al Qa'eda at the time, the Taliban. Remember them? They're the fuckers we slow roasted with the Colonel's secret blend of 11 herbs and spices in late 2001/early 2002.

You let someone slap you once, and they'll do it again, harder. Let them do it again harder, and they'll do it again, devastatingly. If you'll notice, the war mongering of North Korea has quieted down quite a bit. I can promise you that a battle plan has already been devised to take that country completely if it becomes necessary. If one of their test missiles goes astray and hits Japan, we will be automatically at war with North Korea by our ties to SEATO (South East Asia Treaty Organization).

Our President's message is clear: You want to fuck with us, step up. We'll take care of you. If you want to know why the number of Republicans in this country is growing, consider the idea that people in America are sick of being shit on.


Our President is not going to take anyone slapping us, and you should be damn grateful for that

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There once was a little boy who would go to school only to be made fun of and told to fuck off by the people he considered his friends. This wee tyke was very sad, as no one would play with him or even give him the time of day. He sat alone at lunchtime, and no one would talk to him...well, unless they had something disparaging to say.

Middle school was no better, and he managed to go two years without really meeting anyone he could actually relate to or hang out with. High school started off poorly for him...his social status was nil, and those who did know him liked to spread the word on how much of a worthless piece of garbage he was.

Needless to say, this was not a fun time.

It finally took moving to a completely new town in order to get a fresh start...but the past 10 years of beiong ostracized by his peers had left him with a significant disadvantage on dealing with people.

Flash forward a few more years...he has graduated high school and is attending college. Despite being sociable and actively participating in class discussions, he doesn't seem to have much luck meeting anyone...and most of his leftover friends from high school don't have a whole lot to do with him anymore.

?A nervous breakdown, some ineffective medication and a suicide attempt later, he now lives for his work and for little else. What might happen tomorrow? Who knows.

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We can spend our lives letting the world tell us who we are. Sane or insane. Saints or sex addicts. Heros or victims. Letting history tell us how good or bad we are. Letting our past decide our future. Or we can decide for ourselves. And maybe it's our job to invent something better.

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This is a story of a girl, a girl not finished. She looks to the past to learn about her future. Her future will one day be the past and with time, this girl will be complete.

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When I was a little kid my dad told me that the boogie man lived in-between the double yellow lines on the freeway. That was why noone could go over them. If we saw someone break the law and go over them he said, "The boogie man is going to follow them home now." Being not of a resonable age I was scared to death. My dad once went over the double yellow lines and I was scared to death. Of course he said that the boogie man was on vacation so he didn't catch us but I was still scared to death, and every once and I while. Whenever we go over the double yellow lines I always look down and wonder. Could the boogie man live in between there?

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