For those who didn't know it, Muncie Indiana recreated the Ice Age, brought in by a Godzilla with a big hockey stick that snapped over 2400 power lines and blacken'd over 70,000 homes in our area. This storm would have to pick MY city as ground zero for the worst natural disaster that even the oldest local sage has ever witness'd
(Of course a poem is coming out of this, but I'm still having nightmares about not being able to shower for more than 24 hours at a time.
I'm tellin' y'all, Nature does not like it when humanity screws itself. Maybe the politics and greed has gotten so bad that the Forces just decided one day to make it snow in Las Vegas, rain in sunny California, and splitting the Indian Ocean so bad that Old Testament terror is once again waking us all up to what's important.
(Now I can finally say that the character of Chicken Little was not making up the story that the sky is falling. (Can you say "uncount'd vote in O-HI-Oh?) Trust me, somethin's gonna be fallin' and it is not necessarily all white an' fluffy. . .
To look up in a starless sky for days, with temperatures dropping faster than the trees on roofs all over town, and a wind so fierce that lit snapped telephone poles like a bushel of fresh pick'd Kentucky wonder green beans up the dreary night skies--it was like we were in a live game of Halo.
Oh, the trees that are left in this city remind me of a giant box of Lincoln logs dumped out of a box, leaving stumps and limbs everywhere. (We even made CNN news, and there wasn't a political convention going on!)
So after almost one week without internet service, handwriting my experiences by candlelight to keep me in a sane frame of mind, and living like a pioneer woman with no deodorant with my big ol' burly man-slave, (i.e. husband), I get a call from my friend Melvia Miller (www.authorsden.com/melviafmiller) whom I missed on the PowertalkFM.com network the night of the storm--and find out about another businessman who fell from grace like my neighbors 50 foot evergreen tree in the street.
So never mind the battle zone that will take probably 12 weeks to chop up and clean in good old Muncie Indiana (known as the Tsumani on Ice of Jan. 5, 2005). I've found a new snowman to melt. . .
ARMSTRONG FALL DOWN AND HIM GO "BOOM!"
(Link at end of story for reference).
What would happen if anyone from the United States Congress pulled a limp
noodle of an excuse for accepting any kind of pay to promote an issue as
an independent commentator?
Hmmph!
It would be nothing less than fallacious if that person were allowed to carry on with their business as usual.
Free speech is becoming less than precious when people like Whoopi Goldberg are fired from being spokes representatives for a popular weight loss product. Sure, Whoopi stuck to her guns, showed her guts as an American citizen and voter, and told it like it was.
But oh no! Not the darling diplomatic puppet whom the Republican guard
used like a piece of used linoleum flooring. Sad thing about this whole
mess is that there are still people who will sell out, and make an excuse
as to why they knew what they did was wrong.
So as far as the Stepin Fetchit politics of Armstrong Williams and his PR
reciprocity, he needs to pack his bags, relinquish his stripes as a paid
dependent businessman, find the church of his accepted political choice
and start writing for church newsletters who share his views. At least
that way he can't get money for his opinions from the collection plate.
So here's a note for the good ol' boy's boy: Amstrong, don't start none,
won't be none!
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--- I'm tellin' y'all, Nature does not like it when humanity screws itself.
---- Trust me, somethin's gonna be fallin' and it is all white an' fluffy. . .
----living like a pioneer woman with no deodorant with my big ol' burly man-slave
ARMSTRONG FALL DOWN AND HIM GO "BOOM!"
----At least
that way he can't get money for his opinions from the collection plate.
So here's a note for the good ol' boy's boy: Amstrong, don't start none,
won't be none!
--- this is the funniest thing I've read in a long time ....
Peace, Carole