About this blog

This page was set up to be interactive. I want to get a feel for people's views and opinions, so please do not hold back. Just let it rip, because you know I will. My goal is to have this page become a community of intelligent and passionate thoughts. We all have experiences in our day to day that shape our minds and our lives. Let it all out here, and leave it here. If you continue to post strong comments, and make impressions, I will give you direct posting privileges.


Monday, January 21, 2008

Bill Clinton Disgraces Martin Luther King Jr.

Just when you think this guy could not be a bigger piece of crap, he reminds you that he always has room to grow. All you ever hear about is how the Democratic party is the party of the black man, and how the Clintons are always looking for ways to show support for black people. What a crock of shit. Barack Obama is going to have a friggin field day with this clip, and he has every right to make an example of this performance.

Now believe you me, I get incredibly tired after sex as well, so I understand his desire to nod off and recharge his batteries. But of all the times to not be able to keep his cigar in his pants...

Giants Are Going To The Superbowl!



Now believe me, no one in the world has been harder on this guy throughout his time with the New York Giants. And I mean no one. You have all seen it. The dopey expression on his face after screwing up, like he was trying to figure out if he remembered to take a pre-game dump. You would think the guy could give two shits whether he was playing in the NFL, or putting together legos. Either or, and he'd have the same happy look on his face.

But, then came the game against the Patriots, the last game of the regular season. I watched that semi-retarded bastard grow up right before my eyes. As soon as I watched this, I knew the Giants would be legit contenders for the Superbowl. As soon as the schedule was set, I called my buddy, and said they will get this done. No way they lose to Tampa Bay, no way they lose to that homosexual Romo three times in a season, and no way old man can be effective against the greatest D-line in football.

What an unbelievable game last night. Ups and downs, score changes, turnovers. Everything you want in a championship game. And, without a doubt, the kicker, Tynes, is the luckiest bastard in the world right now. Let's be honest, if that dipshit would have missed for a 3rd time, I'm thinking some fat Guinea bastard from northern Jersey busts a cap square in his face. Football and salami heros. Two things in life that when lost will bring an Italian to violence.

Thursday, January 10, 2008

End of an Era

Today, I lost my grandfather. Though his life had been dragging along for some time now, the ending happened all too quickly. An email from my father saying he had been taken to the hospital for an infection. Less than an hour later, a phone call, letting me know he had moved on from this world. As I sat there on the phone with my father, my grief became more for him than anything else. My grandfather had gotten his wish, he would now be with his wife that had left him some years earlier. His passing had become his only goal. But my father had always been the one trying to get my grandfather engaged in his own life once again. He wanted to see his father strong and full of life, not helpless and uninspired in a cold nursing home bed. As I was given the details of the events leading up to the passing, I kept trying to ask my father if he would be ok. Such simple words, but incredibly difficult for me to get out. Impossible for me to get out. I did not want any silence on the phone, I did not want a turn to speak. On one hand, I wanted to be strong for my father, didn't want him to know how I was breaking apart on the inside. But on the other, I just could not handle him telling me the truth. Plain and simple, my father is my hero. Always has been, always will be. And when he shows hurt and vulnerability, it cuts deeper than any knife. His voice grew shakier as he explained how he would be bringing the ashes back up to New York, to be laid atop those of my grandmother, and I fought back the tears with every ounce of strength I had. Just as I feared, the conversation was quiet now. I took a few deep breaths, and I thought of the right words to say. I thought about what his hero would have said to him. And then, with my eyes squeezed tightly, I asked him those very simple words, "are you going to be ok?" He said he would, but I knew the answer long before I struggled to get out the words. The conversation needed to end, my heart was breaking, and my strength was near its end. I told him that I loved him, closed the call, and allowed myself to stop being strong. Rest well PopPop, and tell Nana I love her...

Monday, January 7, 2008

Hillary Done????

Give this article on Drudge a looksy.

Seems the crying candidate may be packing it in early. Seems fitting - not enough balls to get rid of her POS husband, not enough balls to finish the race. The story cites that Clinton may have exhausted all of her campaign funds...wtf? How is that possible?

http://www.drudgereport.com/flashhn.htm