ITEM: Here is my view of last night's blood moon:
If you just look a little to the left... right under that.. no, over there more... Oh, hell, this isn't even my picture. And why should I waste precious short-term memory on such a sight? But here at MWN, we have a certain rep to uphold, so here, from Friday night, with a little electronic boost, I can give you a "bloody moon"...
|"Hey, I was there when you took that picture, and it looked nothing like that!"|
ITEM: Fine, Mr. Smarty Dog, how about I share this story from yesterday? For approximately a quarter-mile yesterday, we were followed by a man and his black lab, getting closer with each passing moment, to the point that we were at the river bank as they began crossing the walkway bridge- and the lab had a freshly killed ground hog in his mouth the whole time, carrying it like a trophy. And guess who didn't notice at all....
ITEM: I know some of you are not sports fans, but this is a story I can easily tell accurately and entertainingly without mentioning any names or stats.
Once upon a time, there was a baseball team in the Nation's Capitol, who were expected to do great things, but had done nothing of the sort all year. The problem was a manager who never quite got them to live up to their potential, except for one strapping lad who had an MVP type year. Somewhere along the way, the team traded to get a pitcher- let's call him Douchebag- that was supposed to help turn things around. Douchebag also did nothing of the sort, and was in the middle of a streak of doing such nothings when he decided that the MVP wasn't playing hard enough. He said something, the MVP responded- and then Douchebag tried to choke him. Right there in the dugout. When the other players got them broken up, the manager sent MVP to bed without dinner, while leaving Douchebag to keep pitching, "Because the game was tied, and he's our closer."
Douchebag proceeded to give up a game-untying home run, and then loaded the bases as a bonus before the manager (let's call him Meathead) took him out of the game.
I told Laurie (Let's call her Laurie) that if Douchebag and Meathead still had jobs the next day, we will know that ownership needs to have a compulsory dementia exam.
Today, Douchebag was told to just go on home for the season. "You don't need to look for a new job, but you can't stay here." Which means he will get 561,728.39 for NOT playing the last seven games. Meat head, on the other hand, is still in town, which means that ownership is NOT insane, but they ARE stupid.
|See, told the whole story without naming names!|
|Just like the mouse on the bottom asked for it.|
He also said the Soviet invasion of Poland in 1939 – two weeks after the Nazi invasion led Britain and France to declare war on Germany – was not aggression, but a defensive act “to ensure the safety of the USSR".
And now today, after having been chewed by his superiors, no doubt, as well as the Polish Government:
“I regret having been imprecise at one point,” Mr Andreyev said as he left the ministry. "I did not mean to say that Poland is co-responsible for the outbreak of Second World War."
“I had no intention of offending the Polish nation,” he continued, adding that Russia “honoured the heroism of the Polish people in their fight against Nazi occupation”.
Sure you did. That's why Stalin sent his little lickboots into Poland in 1939, because they "honoured their heroism."