I went shooting today with the boys. It had been a very long time since I’d held any type of firearm in my hands. It was a different way to spend a winter’s afternoon, to say the least.
Like most everyone else, I’ve been sick with a nasty cold/bronchitis hybrid that just refuses to move on. Today was the first time in a few weeks that fresh air didn’t send me into a coughing spell. Maybe it was the smell of gunpowder – that would be an interesting question to pose to Grissom.
One thing that would rouse me from my sickbed is another stellar chapter in Cynthia McKinney’s self-perpetuating autobiography, “Stupid Is As Stupid Does.”
Ahem. Erick says
It’d be even better if the boat were stranded and no one helped so she couldn’t get back to the U.S.
Ahem. Michelle says
Move over, Hanoi Jane Fonda. Jihad Cindy McKinney is sailing to Gaza to deliver medical supplies to Hamas.
Is it a one-way ticket? We can only hope.
Ahem. Gateway Pundit has video.
After announcing for President as a candidate from the Green Party, she was immediately eclipsed by the blinding quasar of Obama and his glistening abs. So right on cue, post-election, she acts out to grab some attention from the fickle MSM. Cynthia reminds me of that old commercial with the elderly woman calling out, “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up.” Except in her case, it’s “I’m talking and I can’t shut up.” Stay in the Middle East, honey. You’ll look just mahvelous in that burqua.
Being ill and over-whelmed by the end of yet another year, I’ll leave you with the lyrics of this song.
Get Over It
by The EaglesI turn on the tube and what do I see
A whole lotta people cryin’ “Don’t blame me”
They point their crooked little fingers ar everybody else
Spend all their time feelin’ sorry for themselves
Victim of this, victim of that
Your momma’s too thin; your daddy’s too fatGet over it
Get over it
All this whinin’ and cryin’ and pitchin’ a fit
Get over it, get over itYou say you haven’t been the same since you had your little crash
But you might feel better if I gave you some cash
The more I think about it, Old Billy was right
Let’s kill all the lawyers, kill ‘em tonight
You don’t want to work, you want to live like a king
But the big, bad world doesn’t owe you a thingGet over it
Get over it
If you don’t want to play, then you might as well split
Get over it, Get over itIt’s like going to confession every time I hear you speak
You’re makin’ the most of your losin’ streak
Some call it sick, but I call it weakYou drag it around like a ball and chain
You wallow in the guilt; you wallow in the pain
You wave it like a flag, you wear it like a crown
Got your mind in the gutter, bringin’ everybody down
Complain about the present and blame it on the past
I’d like to find your inner child and kick its little assGet over it
Get over it
All this bitchin’ and moanin’ and pitchin’ a fit
Get over it, get over itGet over it
Get over it
It’s gotta stop sometime, so why don’t you quit
Get over it, get over it
After all, why rehash the many,many disappointments of 2008? Time to move on.
