Well, fuck civility. First chair fuck it from the woodwind section in the middle of a command performance of Toccata and Fuck. Fuck those who try to tell us, after years of slander, beatings, lies, and false accusations from the left, we need to fucking be nice now that they have lost. Fuck the belief that being nice while the other side refuses to hold back will work. And lawnfuck on a frozen day with a snow shovel anybody who dares lecture us about civility after the shit thrown at us for years by those now begging us to play nice.
You know who fucking wants to be civil? Fucking losers, that’s who. Those weak willed, goatsegramming, assjiggling, snails up their widened asses, that’s who. Those people who blanche at the sight of people demanding their voices be heard, that’s who. And those fuckfurters with relish who want to tell us everything will be all fucky-dory, so long as we fucking let them tell us how to act and live. And these are the people who wind up sliding us into statism, so fuck them forever with used toilet paper after I had a batch of macho Nachos.
When I read about the desires of many on the left to have us become a regulated, state-run society, I look in on the two most precious things I know as they sleep. One of those is the daughter of mine who is a gift from above and made in the image of all that is perfect, who has the potential to shape history, so long as she has the opportunity to do so, and is what G-d above meant when he was pleased with his handiwork. The other is the one I abandoned all others for, the one for whom I still crave every night as if it were two nights before our wedding (heh!), who I promised to always be my happily ever after, and who bore my children who died before birth, who live, and who are yet to come. As I watch over them, do you flaccid fuckmuscles stuck in the fuckzipper of fuckheadedness really believe I will accommodate and yield anything to those who wish to harm them? Well, rockfuck you with an algae fucked fucktwig if you think so.
No, I will not yield to those who seek to destroy those I value more than my life itself. I will not yield an inch to those who wish to control and regulate my family’s life. I will not yield an inch to those who wish death upon me for my views. I will not yield until they are driven from the plains forever. And “civility” to those who wish to destroy everything around me is merely the first step. So fuck your false calls for civility. Fuck your sham moderation. Fuck your calls for me to be anything less than vigilant against your schemes. And amoebafuck you until you dehydrate for trying to push this shit upon us.
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Just check out this survey.
The index, based on a survey of 2000 Australians in April, found that those who drink up to three drinks a day are far happier than those who never drink.
And the wellbeing of 18- to 25-year-olds – the key binge drinking demographic – remains high regardless of how many drinks they have.
The findings highlight some of the challenges facing public health officials in promoting safe drinking levels and curbing the burgeoning binge-drink culture.
They are also in stark contrast to the findings of research released by the Salvation Army this week, which found one in four Australians say alcohol has had a negative impact on them or their family.
Australian Unity Health group executive Amanda Hagan said the link between alcohol consumption and the wellbeing of 18- to 25-year-olds was particularly concerning.
“This is potentially troublesome for policymakers in their struggle with binge drinking,” she said.
“It demonstrates the need to focus on the health and safety implications of binge drinking because this age group is not feeling an adverse impact on their wellbeing.”
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Just say it was for a party.
The couple has detained back in August 2006 when customs officials in Malmö stopped their minivan on the way back from a trip to Germany, reports the Pitea-Tidning newspaper.
An inspection of the van uncovered 2,692 litres of beer, 27 litres of wine, and 4.2 litres of hard liquor. In a subsequent search of the couple’s home in Piteå, police discovered an additional stash of alcohol, as well as a journal which included people’s names, along with different sums and types of beer.
Altogether, the couple had brought around 24,000 cans of beer in Sweden, reports the Norrbotten-Kuriren newspaper.
The prosecutor filed smuggling charges, alleging the pair had engaged in a systematic operation to import and distribute alcohol, and argued that the couple should be sentenced to several months in prison.
During the trial, the pair openly admitted to having transporting the alcohol from Germany into Sweden, but denied they had committed any crime since the beer, wine, and liquor was meant for personal use.
Specifically, the booze was meant to supply partygoers at their son’s upcoming 40th birthday party, the wife’s 60th birthday party, their daughter’s wedding, a friend’s 70th birthday party, and for a New Year’s party.
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Just hope it isn’t this yard.
Around noon, when Long picked up her phone to answer a return call, she was closer to making good on that threat.
“I found me an electric fence, and they told me, ‘You’re going to have to have that pole in the ground 6 foot,’ ” she said. “I told them if I had to stand out in the yard and peck all night, I’ll do it.”
At 5-foot-1, Long is hardly the picture of brute force, but the 66-year-old is determined to catch – or zap – the perpetrators. Her husband, Carl, a former city alderman, apparently has his own plans: “My husband is very upset. They might have a little BB stinging them in their rear,” Lena said.
Ashland Police Chief Scott Robbins thinks the culprits are local high school kids “just out messing around.” Although he doubts there are political motives behind the tomfoolery, Long begs to differ.
“They’re getting on the wrong nerve now,” she said. “I think it’s terrible that something like this is going on. They don’t bother the Obama signs. They want to keep a clean campaign, but this is terrible.”
She’s sure there is more than one sign bandit. All four McCain/Palin signs on her lawn, in three different locations at Cottonwood Street and Route M, were heisted.
Long refers to the spot as “campaign corner” where signs touting the candidacies of Ed Robb, Peter Kinder, Kenny Hulshof, Kurt Schaefer and other Republicans were untouched.
This has the potential to create the greatest internet phenomenon ever.
Bolton will offer free beer to fans before their derby game with Blackburn tomorrow in an attempt to beat falling attendances at the Reebok Stadium.
The Lancashire club will treat the first 1,000 supporters into their pre-match Fanzone to a free lunchtime drink as well as cut-price food and subsidised beer and cider from
£1.75 ahead of the clash with Paul Ince’s men.
Cider? Anyway, here’s more.
Bolton’s newly appointed fans’ liaison officer Tony Kelly said: ‘A lot of fans have got in touch asking if the club would consider hosting a venue where they can go for a drink and something to eat before the match.
‘I’m delighted to say the club has taken on board our fans’ comments.
‘I really hope the fans get behind this and bring with them the fantastic atmosphere that we saw in our European games abroad, where they all gathered before the game to get in the matchday mood.’
But Bolton’s attempts to bolster attendances by offering free beer is bound to dismay anti-alcohol campaigners.
But it’ll make internet dorks who savor drunken rowdiness happy.
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This might give you a clue.
Some six million revellers at the Munich festival quaffed 6.6 million litres of beer and devoured 104 whole oxen. But lousy weather – rain and temperatures around 11 degrees Celsius – meant beer consumption actually dropped by five percent compared to last year.
Still, that didn’t mean the 175th Oktoberfest wasn’t a good party. According to daily newspaper Süddeutsche Zeitung on Tuesday, the chilly weather inspired lots of Wiesn visitors to huddle closer together for warmth – which seems to have had wider repercussions.
The paper reported that Munich pharmacies sold record amounts of condoms during the 16-day beer festival. Some store inventories were completely cleared out of prophylactics. Condom maker Durex said they sold 1.5 million rubbers during the last fortnight – 21 percent more than the entire month of August.
Gerald Schreiber, a marketing manager for Durex, expressed his excitement over the potential synergies of the world’s largest beer orgy and his company’s prophylactics: “With that kind of turnover maybe we should think about developing a special Wiesn condom!”
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Just go to their Oktoberfest.
“We can make this festival with Iraqi people, Turkish people, Kurdish people, American people, German people, with (people from) all over the world in peace and in a real good mood.”
He also had a special message for his compatriots, who as Europe’s biggest travelers can contribute greatly to any nascent tourism industry.
“For my people from Germany,” he said in German to AP Television News, “Iraq is not dangerous everywhere. There are good areas here. There is Kurdistan and the Kurdish region, where you can get around well, where you can get work done, where you are welcome, where the war stays away.”
Iraq’s Kurdistan region is already a travel destination for thousands of Iraqis, eager to leave behind the heat, dust and daily killings in their country’s heartland for the green, tranquil mountains of the north.
Organized bus tours are possible as a result of the improved security that has taken hold in much of the country over the last year. A week in a modest hotel, with bus fare, costs about US$160 per person, or just one-third of an average monthly Iraqi salary.
Arab visitors are still carefully screened in the semiautonomous region about the size of Switzerland and home to nearly 3.8 million people.
And they are proud to admit it.
I had come from New York, a city where this kind of drinking is reserved for the weekend and drinking to the point of insensibility is an activity only for the very young or the very likely to be headed for AA. By contrast, Britons seemed to drink all the time. It was a shock to see how enthusiastically they knocked back the booze at Sunday lunches in the country and how high their tolerance was. It was a shock to see, after we’d had our first weekday dinner party (everyone stayed until 1am, never mind their jobs), that the table was covered in twice as many empty wine bottles as there had been guests.
Britons love to drink and love to boast about drinking. Like hungover students who wake up sick on sticky, beer-soaked floors with someone else’s underpants on their heads but then brag about their awesome night of partying, they have an amused tolerance for drunken high jinks.
One of the reasons the late Queen Mother was so beloved was that she spent the last decades of her life in a benign alcoholic haze. For the British, alcohol is a relaxant, an emollient, a crutch, a relief, an excuse. If they go overboard, it is the get-out-of-jail-free card that allows them to throw up their hands, palms out, and disavow responsibility.
Per capita drinking across most of Europe has decreased in the past 40 years, but in Britain it has increased. People start younger, drink more and are increasingly likely to binge-drink. Government figures released last year show that British adults on average drink the equivalent of 11.4 litres of pure alcohol a year – translating into 130 bottles of wine or 1,137 pints of beer. The government has estimated that the total cost to society, in medical bills, missed work, clean-up charges and increased policing, is about £20 billion a year.
“There’s no social group that’s immune to binge drinking except the elderly – although we recently had a 90-year-old who drank five pints and fell down as he tried to leave his local pub,” Dr Paul Atkinson, a consultant in the A&E department at Adden-brooke’s hospital in Cambridge, told me. “It’s very common to have head injuries. I’ve had people who’ve inhaled their teeth into their lungs.”
The effects are all too obvious to anyone brave enough to take certain trains late at night, to stand outside pubs or clubs at closing time or to venture into town and city centres late on Friday or Saturday nights.
Drunken Brits are one of the country’s most visible exports, too. Other Europeans sometimes feel as if Britain treats their continent as one huge pub, followed by one huge bath-room. One day I decided to go to Prague on easyJet (price of last-minute ticket: £50) on a flight that left at 6.15am. Most of the passengers – groups of young men in matching shirts with stag-party slogans – seemed to have been up all night in the pub. When I tried to talk to some of them, they were like schoolchildren: embarrassed to be singled out, staring glassy-eyed through the window.