Go read the folks on the sidebar.
Posted from my iPhone.
Go read the folks on the sidebar.
Posted from my iPhone.
And this one is this year…
Quite a contrast isn’t it?
Need I say more? I don’t think so.
VOTE on Nov 6th, I don’t care WHO you vote for, but please exercise your rights!
Chief Diversity Officer John Robinson penned a column in the department’s latest edition of “State Magazine ” advising readers on some rather obscure Ps and Qs.
Robinson ticked off several common phrases and went on to explain why their roots are racially or culturally insensitive. The result was a list of no-nos that could easily result in some tongue-tied U.S. diplomats, particularly in an administration that swaps “war on terror” for “overseas contingency operation” and once shied away from using the word “terrorism.”
For instance, Robinson warned, “hold down the fort” is a potentially insulting reference to American Indian stereotypes.
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He singled out another phrase, “Going Dutch,” as a “negative stereotype portraying the Dutch as cheap.”
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And “rule of thumb,” he wrote, can according to women’s activists refer “to an antiquated law, whereby the width of a husband’s thumb was the legal size of a switch or rod allowed to beat his wife.”
Another thing I find interesting is the nose art, and the preponderance of female images. Some of these birds still had crew names on the various positions, and one can only wonder the stories those birds could tell, if they could talk!!!
That’s not all. Karen Vaughn reached out to the parents of the other SEALs killed in that crash.
Their letters were all the same. Form letters – signed by an electric pen.
One looting call was at a club on Martin Luther King Boulevard near South Robertson, where a man and a woman were seen breaking in by a citizen, said Lt. Frank Young of the NOPD Sixth District Investigative Unit. When police arrived, they found the couple inside, trying to steal liquor and loose change from the bar, and both were booked on looting charges, Young said.
I’m in the process of renewing my passport and still cannot believe this.
How is it that Radio Shack has my address and telephone number and knows that I bought a cable TV from them in 1987 (23 years ago), and yet, the Federal Government is still asking me where I was born and on what date.
For Christ sakes, do you guys do this by hand? Ever heard of computers?
My birth date you have in my social security file. It’s on EVERY income tax form I’ve filed for the past 30 years. It’s on my Medicarehealth insurance card and my driver’s license, it’s on the last eight damn passports I’ve had, it’s on every stupid customs declaration form I’ve had to fill out before being allowed off the plane for the last 30 years. And it’s on all those census forms that we have to do at election times.
Would somebody please take note, once and for all, that my mother’s name is Maryanne, my father’s name is Robert and I’m reasonably confident that neither name is likely to change between now and when I die.
Between you an’ me, I’ve had enough of this bureaucratic BS!
You send the application to my house, then you ask me for
my #*&#%*& address.
What is going on? You must have a gang of bureaucratic Neanderthalmorons working there!
Look at my damn picture. Do I look like Bin Laden? And “No,” I don’t want to dig up Yasser Arafat, for Christ sakes. I just want to go and park my ass on a sandy beach. And would someone please tell me, why would you give a damn whether I plan on visiting a farm in the next 15 days?
If I ever got the urge to do something weird to a chicken or a goat, believe you me, I’d sure as hell not want to tell anyone!
Well, I have to go now because I have to go to the other end of the city and get another #*@&#^@*@& copy of my birth certificate to the tune of $100.
Would it be so difficult to have all the services in the same area so I could get a new passport the same day? Nooooo, that would require planning and organization. And it would be too logical for the @&^*^%@% government.
You’d rather have us running all over the place like chickens with our heads cut off. Then, we have to find some asshole to confirm that it’s really me in the damn picture – you know, the one where we’re not allowed to smile… Hey, you know why we can’t smile?
We’re totally pissed off!
Signed
– An Irate Citizen.
P.S. Remember what I wrote about getting someone to confirm that the picture is me? Well, my family has been in the United States of America since 1776. I have served in the military for something over 35 years and have had security clearances up the ying yang. However, I have to get someone important to verify who I am – you know, someone like my doctor……. WHO WAS BORN AND RAISED IN INDIA!