Humor for the day!

Ratdog68

LSB Official Story Teller
LSB TURKEY BUZZARD PRESERVATION SOCIETY
SUS VENATOR CLUB
LoneStarBoars Supporter
Thanks to the Bunker Boys for putting this issue in perspective:

Letter to Brittney Griner

Ms, Miss, Mrs Griner is a famous female basketball player who, in the past, has disrespected our anthem, flag and country. She is now behind bars in Russia, charged with drug smuggling, for which she pleaded guilty. She is now screaming that America’s umbrella of goodness should intercede on her behalf by begging the USA embassy in Moscow to use any method of pressure to gain her release. It’s funny that woke liberals who get into trouble overseas never cry out to the countries that they admire to help them with their problems! The letter below should also be sent to NBA, NFL, MLB, and others that make their living playing a game and also disrespect our nation, its symbols, traditions, and our venerable veterans.


Dear Ms. Griner,

We hope that this letter finds you in good health, and we understand you are having some rough times in your life. We are a group of old Vietnam Combat Veterans from North Carolina. Our average age is around seventy years old. We call ourselves "The Bunker Boys." We spent a lot of time living in rat and snake-infested holes in the ground known as bunkers. When we were not in the bunkers, we were crawling through the jungle being shot at and shooting back at little people wearing black pajamas. We must be honest and tell you that the only thing we may have in common with you, is that we, too, were drafted.

We noticed you were drafted number one in the WNBA draft a few years ago. Since we were all drafted, we thought we might let you know what it was like when we were drafted. Unlike you, most of us had no college. The people of the United States drafted us. We consisted of all colors, religions and personal beliefs. We had no choice of which team we played for: Army, Navy, Air Force or Marines. We were sent halfway around the world to fight and kill people we didn’t know in a place we had never heard of. We were paid (we know you can relate to this) $3.00 a day and required to work 24 hours a day if needed. When we returned home, many or most of us were treated very badly by our fellow Americans. We were spit on and hit by bottles and rocks as the police stood by and watched. We did not complain, we just continued on in life and made the best of it. We fought for God, family, country and, of course, the Flag and the National Anthem . . . a poem that was written by, of all people, a lawyer. He wrote the poem as he watched bombs fall on and kill fellow Americans. Ever since that night, our nation has played that little poem before millions of social functions. For some people it’s just a little song. For a Veteran it is a reminder of how many men and women of all colors have given their lives, so the rest can have the right to be free.

We found in our research that you requested the National Anthem not to be played at sporting events. We find it odd that now you are requesting the citizens of the United States to pay for your release from a jail in Russia. Yes, we the taxpayers are paying for all of those diplomats working on your release. Our government told you, and all fellow Americans in Russia, to leave Russia after the invasion of the Ukraine. You play basketball in a country that is known to treat Americans badly. You fly a great deal and must know, by now, all of the rules about what one can bring into a country. All of us that travel know the rules for entering a foreign country. You are a guest and must go by the rules of the land. By your own admission, you were attempting to bring an illegal substance into a country that is known for its long prison sentences. You had to know this because you are making a million dollars a year to play a game and hold a college degree. At six feet nine inches tall, you know that security officers are going to focus on you from the moment you stand in the boarding pass line.

We also noticed that you are now saying you placed the drugs in your luggage by accident. Please! That is something that an 18-year old would say. We also found out that your net worth is somewhere around $5 million bucks for playing a game. For old guys like us, living on a fixed income, that’s a lot of money for just playing a game. Don’t get us wrong; we are not against you. We all went and fought, so all Americans can have the freedom to make their own choices. We just hope that the next time you have to endure the playing of that little poem, that you will pay close attention to the “land of the free” part.

Wishing you the very best,

The Bunker Boys
 

Ratdog68

LSB Official Story Teller
LSB TURKEY BUZZARD PRESERVATION SOCIETY
SUS VENATOR CLUB
LoneStarBoars Supporter
A successful rancher died and left everything to his devoted wife. She was a very good-looking woman and determined to keep the ranch, but knew very little about ranching so she decided to place an ad in the newspaper for a ranch hand.

Two cowboys applied for the job. One was gay and the other a drunk.
She thought long and hard about it, and when no one else applied she decided to hire the gay guy, figuring it would be safer to have him around the house than the drunk.

He proved to be a hard worker who put in long hours every day and knew a lot about ranching.
For weeks, the two of them worked, and the ranch was doing very well.

Then one day, the rancher's widow said to the hired hand, "You have done a really good job, and the ranch looks great. You should go into town and kick up your heels." The hired hand readily agreed and went into town one Saturday night.

One o'clock came, however, and he didn't return.

Two o'clock and no hired hand.

Finally he returned around two-thirty, and upon entering the room, he found the rancher's widow sitting by the fireplace with a glass of wine, waiting for him.

She quietly called him over to her. "Unbutton my blouse and
take it off."
Trembling, he did as she directed. "Now take off my boots."
He did as she asked, ever so slowly. "Now take off my socks."
He removed each gently and placed them neatly by her boots.
"Now take off my skirt."
He slowly unbuttoned it, constantly watching her eyes in the fire light.
"Now take off my bra." Again, with trembling hands, he did as he was told and dropped it to the floor.

Then she looked at him and said, "If you ever wear my clothes into town again, you're fired."

P.S. I didn't see it coming, either…
 

Ratdog68

LSB Official Story Teller
LSB TURKEY BUZZARD PRESERVATION SOCIETY
SUS VENATOR CLUB
LoneStarBoars Supporter
The offer made by the United States to trade President Joe Biden for Queen Elizabeth II still stands, even after the Queen has passed away at the age of 96. We could even pay for a royal burial for her and still be money ahead.
 

Ratdog68

LSB Official Story Teller
LSB TURKEY BUZZARD PRESERVATION SOCIETY
SUS VENATOR CLUB
LoneStarBoars Supporter
It SUCKS To Be Stupid....

Ok fellers, time to have a good laugh at my expense. I teach people how to drive and administer the road test to applicants.

Today had been busy, and I didn't get around to gassing up the car before I had a road test. This test included a "warm-up", which is NOT a lesson, it's time BTW to get used to the feel of the car and to shake off the jitters just before the test. The tank is so low I may not be able to make it through the RT without the car dieing. So... I tell the young man we're stopping to get some fuel during his warm-up, and, as a thank you to him for dealing with that, I'll give him some coaching pointers on how to do well on the test (during the warm-up).

So, there we are at the gas station, filling up the car. My head is in this game (helping this young man out with some coaching), I'm focused on the task at hand. On the other side of the pump is another young man, clean cut, dressed for riding, riding a little Yamaha bike (economical ride). He's got solid riding gear on and is sitting on his seat working his smart phone.

The guy gets up and apologizes for the intrusion and tells me his story. He forgot his wallet at home, has a new phone which he'd neglected to set-up with paying for things with it. He's headed to Bellingham, WA (90 miles to the north) to meet up with his girlfriend and asks if there's any way I can help him out. I'm gassing up the driving school's car with the driving school's gas card and will not risk using that to help out a stranger w/o the boss' permission to do so with their money. He understands and says thanks. Now, I'm dialed in to trying to help my client while he's helping me with getting gas on HIS dime. Reach into my pocket for some cash and hand it to the guy. He thanks me, we finish and head out to complete the W/U before his test.

R/T begins, and I'm thinking back to the gas station encounter. It dawns on me what I did. I handed the guy a $5 bill. Gas in Seattle is $5.97/gal at that pump. I'm thinking, if Trump was in office, $5 would've given him two gallons of gas and at 70mpg for his scooter, he'd've made it to Bellingham on that. The poor guy isn't even getting a gallon of gas and will be 30 miles short of his destination. But, I gave him some help, right? (Not really... LOL) Guess which gas station is on the prescribed route on this R/T? Guess who's still at the same pump? I grab the wheel from the poor kid and swing into the station while telling him I'm putting his R/T on pause, I need to talk to this guy. The poor guy is getting ready to mount up and leave as I tap him on the shoulder and tell him I had my head up my ass and didn't look at what I'd handed him, and that I hadn't even given him enough to get a gallon of gas. Handed him more than enough to add to his previous donation to get him where he needs to go and tell him to get himself some fuel to get where he needs to go. He just about fell over with surprise, gave me a big grin/thanks.

I hopped back into the car, told the kid we'd resume the test as soon as he was back on the street, and why I did what I'd done. He smiled and did fine on his test. Hopefully he finished the test knowing he was being tested by another human being and not some stern curmudgeon.

The morale of the story, if you're going to help someone, pull your head out of your ass and pay attention to what you're offering someone so that you're actually helping them. I was glad to see him still there, so I could correct my cranial-rectitis.
 

Ratdog68

LSB Official Story Teller
LSB TURKEY BUZZARD PRESERVATION SOCIETY
SUS VENATOR CLUB
LoneStarBoars Supporter

Ratdog68

LSB Official Story Teller
LSB TURKEY BUZZARD PRESERVATION SOCIETY
SUS VENATOR CLUB
LoneStarBoars Supporter
No, it's not the Rottie, keep watching... LOL

 

Ratdog68

LSB Official Story Teller
LSB TURKEY BUZZARD PRESERVATION SOCIETY
SUS VENATOR CLUB
LoneStarBoars Supporter

Ratdog68

LSB Official Story Teller
LSB TURKEY BUZZARD PRESERVATION SOCIETY
SUS VENATOR CLUB
LoneStarBoars Supporter

Itsazonik

Cape Coral, FL
Vendor
LoneStarBoars Supporter
No matter how many times I watch that it’s still funny
 

Ratdog68

LSB Official Story Teller
LSB TURKEY BUZZARD PRESERVATION SOCIETY
SUS VENATOR CLUB
LoneStarBoars Supporter

Ratdog68

LSB Official Story Teller
LSB TURKEY BUZZARD PRESERVATION SOCIETY
SUS VENATOR CLUB
LoneStarBoars Supporter
The boy ain't RIGHT! In a good way.
 

Ratdog68

LSB Official Story Teller
LSB TURKEY BUZZARD PRESERVATION SOCIETY
SUS VENATOR CLUB
LoneStarBoars Supporter

Ratdog68

LSB Official Story Teller
LSB TURKEY BUZZARD PRESERVATION SOCIETY
SUS VENATOR CLUB
LoneStarBoars Supporter

Ratdog68

LSB Official Story Teller
LSB TURKEY BUZZARD PRESERVATION SOCIETY
SUS VENATOR CLUB
LoneStarBoars Supporter

Ratdog68

LSB Official Story Teller
LSB TURKEY BUZZARD PRESERVATION SOCIETY
SUS VENATOR CLUB
LoneStarBoars Supporter
Top