July 14, 2008
Tweet
.
Stroke Of Midnight:
He is not alone. First two minutes are enough. But it actually gets creepier. “Generation Still”:
12:35 A.M.
He’s right. These s are incorrigible.
1:27 A.M.
Just got this email from my close personal friend Andrew Breitbart of The Drudge Report, Breitbart.com and fregquent Fox News contributer and gues on Red Eye almost as often as that Limey dude:
I cant tell you how much i hate the left.
just started a weekly column for the wash times called ‘big hollywood’ — as in big pharma, big oil, big business, etc.
it is going to be message to DC political class of the underground hollywood conservative POV. first article if the cover of the wash times weekly edition. sending separately; big file.
ab
6:02 A.M.
Cool. Just broke my only reading glasses, kinda blind as a bat at reading without them, and I’m posting here, stories and vids; can’t get to new ones till about four hours. Misspellings and other strangeness don’t count now, cos I can’t read what I’m tyiping and arranging. Damn glad I learned this keyboard thoroughly in high school. Teacher said it would be the important class we take.
6:56 A.M.
Sometimes some things just can’t be said. And it sucks.
7:09 A.M.
You know, one of the best facts of life is that we’ve been quietly killing so many bad guys across the globe for decades and the media doesn’t even have the slightest idea. And there’s some really, really cool stories.
Dear Media,
Fuck You.
12:13 P.M.
Stay inside. And don’t be doin’ physical labor outside right now. Just did a little. Very little. Too much anyway. Fuck it.
Yeah, and for some reason the last three months have been an object lesson in insanity. Anybody else have this pehbemenon of a genuinely, dangerously crazy come crawl right up into the middle of your life, like up to 3-5 times?
3:11 P.M.
Now I’m pissed. Like really pissed. Westboro Baptists are planning to picket Tony Snow’s funeral. Bash is posting the story.
9:12 P.M.
Every day they talked of explosions and blood and futility. So recent, but so far away…
9:22 P.M..
Is it always darkest before dawn? Or is an eclipse darker?
It’s always quietest in between mortars.
9:44 P.M.
The red-stained killing floors are playgrounds now. Everyone still waits to flinch and run at the gunpowder thunder, but nothing comes louder than a slamming door, a motorcycle, a child’s or parent’s yell. Yesterday, all our troubles seemed so immediate, choking and unyielding.
A childhood of football and war is now again a childhood of football again.
The sun never stopped rising.
I guess there were more of us than the bad men.
 |
|