Gator Press

Special Gator Press Exclusive:

Drinks are to the drinker what hooks are to a hooker. You can buy them, which requires money. Or you may get other people to buy them for you, in which case you will be expected to perform bizarre sex acts afterwards while being filmed.
Some people have learned to obtain alcohol by simply stealing other peoples drinks; getting drinks on someone else’s tab; or by appropriating abandoned drinks.
If you are too broke to supply your own drinks, you need to develop some kind of “act”.
Musicians learned centuries ago that as long as they could make noise, they would drink free. Learn to play an instrument, tell funny jokes,  how to hula-hoop, or how to ignite farts.
Your new skill will pay off when it’s time to drink!
I shouldn’t have to mention that you are not going to have any fun drinking girlie drinks.  Any heterosexual man who drinks Sex on the Beach, Hard Lemonade, or other sissy drinks should immediately switch to a more manly and powerful fuel.
If you’re going to get properly smashed, you’ll need a Designated Driver (pronounced “segregated shriver”). This is the person who remains sober and drives. Often, petty criminals work off their jail time by performing community service as designated drivers, so beware. Sometimes, others will nominate you for this task, which you must avoid. Repeat this mantra: “m 2 junka jive” and you will usually avoid this hated assignment.
Beware of bartenders, who will not serve you if you appear to be intoxicated. It is against Texas law to drink while drunk. Momentarily sober up when ordering, and speak clearly. You won’t get served if you ask her to “fish me a nutty shrink”. Look the bartender dead in the eye, and order in a deep voice, like John Wayne. Don’t thay shings like thish.
Music usually sounds “bestest” and you can dance “gooder” when you’re drunk. If there is a band playing, they will always respect your taste in music if you loudly shout for them to play something by Leonard Skinner, or CC Top. Most bands are happy to have intoxicated guys get onstage and sing, so feel free to get up there and set a good example. If you’re at a karaoke show, dazzle everyone by spinning the microphones around by the cords. Don’t select a song, pick something at random. Sing loud enough so everyone can hear you. Not everyone in the bar – everyone.
And don’t sit down, stand up at the bar like a he-man. The drunker you stand there, the longer you’ll get.
Here’s a fun bar game to play: Remove one item of clothing after each drink, and encourage others to do so. By the time you are drunk, you will be almost naked. Once you are drunk and almost undressed, you might want to get laid, simply as a time-saving device. Do not attempt to get laid by a police officer when you have been drinking, unless you are into the whole handcuffs thing. Married people always make the mistake of taking off their wedding rings when they are on the prowl. That is plain stupid. Everybody wants to hook up with married people. That’s why there’s so much divorce.
Here is the best pickup line in the world for men to use: “Get your ass in the truck, we’re leaving”. I’ve been using that one for years, and like a good hunting dog, it always fetches.

Women realize of course that drunk men are the best lovers, so they are pretty easy to get once you have a buzz. Have you noticed that when you’re intoximicated, you’re witty, intelligent, and a better dancer? Alcohol creates instant sophistication, although you won’t be able to pronounce it. I have seen Jethro Bodeen turn into James Bond after a half a scottle of botch.
The most effective seduction advice for men is to keep giving her booze until she conks out. Scientific studies have shown that women often experience more erotic pleasure unconscious than they do while awake.
When two really drunk people have sex, it is always good. Of course, when nine drunk people have sex, it is incredible.
One of the primary objectives you must always remember is this: Stay out of the back seat of police cars. If you are driving, and a cop pulls in behind you, demonstrate that you are in complete control of the vehicle by swerving left and right a few times. Prove that your brakes are in good shape by accelerating and then suddenly stopping. Flash your lights and tap the horn a few times to show that everything is in working order. Remember: It is a known fact that the faster you drive, the sooner you will get there, thus reducing your exposure time.
If you do get stopped, feel free to tell the officer you’re personal friends with Gator, and he had better back off. Try complimenting the officer, but in an indirect way, something like “your wife sure does have nice tits”. Or, you could simply offer him $5 to just “forget the whole thing”.
If you have any open alcohol in the vehicle, hide it somehow, as it makes police officers jealous. I usually conceal beer by pouring it into my bong. You can hide pints and half-pints underneath your pistol in your holster.
If you are walking, and get stopped for suspicion of public intoxication, you can easily prove you are sober by leaving the vicinity rapidly on foot. A convincing demonstration of sprinting, jumping, and climbing may convince the law to let you go on your way without any hassles.
Okay, assuming you got drunk, laid, and survived the trip home, your next consideration is the Morning After.
Hangovers are caused by drinking too slowly. A slow drinker kills brain cells slowly, and in their death-throes, they trigger throbbing headaches. Fast drinkers snuff these cells quickly, saving all this pain. If you are a slow drinker, at the end of the night, do about 3 or 4 shots quickly to mercifully euthanize these dying brain cells. You’ll often wake up with no painful memories of what happened afterwards. If you do get up with a hangover, you need to kill these suffering brain cells off immediately with some more of the “dog that bit you”.
Married people who come home drunk always make the mistake of sneaking into the house quietly. Make as much noise as possible – your rambunctious mood may be contagious. Maybe everyone will wake up and want to party with you! In fact, invite the folks at “last call” over for an after-party at your place.
The health benefits of alcohol are too numerous to be listed here, however, here are a few of the positive benefits of being shitfaced that many people do not realize:
Breast Size: Women who use alcohol more regularly are likely to have larger kazongas, and they will often display them proudly.
Income: Nearly all serious drinkers are – or later become – or previously were – or have met – wealthy bastards.
Contacts: Drinking brings one into contact with higher echelons of society, including attorneys, doctors, judges, police officers, paramedics, and jail guards.
Appearance: Drinking is essential in improving your appearance. The more drinks other people have, the better your appearance will be to them. Use alcohol’s beauty enhancing secrets to your advantage. Nearly all of the world’s heterosexual men are ugly beasts.  This is the reason alcohol was created – so that intoxicated women might drink and either find us attractive, or else simply pass out at an opportune time.
If you have aspirations for higher office, and would like to be named “Town Drunk”, I recommend starting with a smaller town than Houston, and work your way up. If you live in the city, start off as a neighborhood drunk and run with it.
Above all, be careful with booze. Never spill a drop.   GATOR

We received this press release today from Webster Texas Police:

Webster Home Invasion
CASE # 13-00536

On Wednesday, March 6, 2013 at approximately 11:10 am, officers responded to the 18400 block of Anne Dr. in reference to a report of a “Man with a Gun”.  Upon arrival in the area, officers located and detained one W/M suspect.  A second suspect (B/M) was observed leaving in a maroon colored truck. That vehicle was later contacted in Dickinson where he was taken into custody, along with a third individual who it was later determined not to have been involved in the crimes.

Barnett

Jacobson

This incident started out around 4:30 am Wednesday morning as a “home invasion” where the suspects took the three residents; a mother, female teenage daughter and male juvenile son, hostage.  During this “home invasion”, the two female victims were allegedly sexually assaulted by the W/M suspect. The W/M suspect was armed with a handgun but the B/M was unarmed. The suspects then tied up all three residents and around 8 am drove them to a field in Alvin. During the trip they stopped to buy two cans of beer at a store. They were then driven to a secluded area and walked into a field to be killed.  The W/M suspect gave the B/M suspect his weapon and told him to shoot the three hostages. The B/M suspect refused and since he had control of the weapon the W/M had no choice but to cooperate with him. The suspects then drove to another store and bought beer for themselves and soft drinks for the hostages. They then returned the victims to the residence on Anne Dr. to help dispose of any evidence left there.  At this point the male juvenile victim was able to get free and arm himself with a handgun, which the family had.  He then confronted the suspects who fled the scene.

With the assistance of several civilian neighbors the police officers, who arrived in less than one minute, were able to chase the W/M suspect several blocks where he was apprehended hiding in some tall grass next to a house under construction.

The B/M fled the scene in the W/M’s truck abandoning him at the scene.  He then picked up a friend and went to a store in Dickinson to purchase more beer. A Dickinson Police officer observed the vehicle we had broadcasted as a wanted vehicle and detained it along with the two occupants for Webster officers.

The females were taken to the hospital and upon examination were found to be uninjured physically.

The Harris County District Attorney’s Office has taken the following charges on the two suspects:

Jacobson, Charles Allen III   
DOB 01/24/1980
2 counts Agg Sexual Assault
2 counts Agg Kidnapping

Barnett, James Ellis 
DOB 01/11/1957
1 count Agg Robbery
2 counts Agg Kidnapping

COMMENTARY:

If those seeking to take away our right to own firearms for self protection had their way, this story would be titled “Family Found Slaughtered In Webster.”   As long as guns exist, the “bad guys” are going to have them.  This incident clearly illustrates the need to own firearms and train the family how to use them.  Incidentally, if the family gun had been locked in any way, it would have been useless in this case.  It’s a good thing the gun was there, that the kid knew where to find it, and that he knew what to do with it.  (GATOR)

First, the back-story:

“MAY 9, 2011 Port Arthur News:

Chambers County authorities and the Texas Rangers are investigating a McFaddin Beach shooting to determine if a woman’s death was a suicide or homicide.

Chambers County Deputies were dispatched to a shooting at McFaddin Beach on Texas 87 shortly before noon on Saturday, May 7, east of Texas 124 in High Island.

The shooting occurred along the one mile stretch of beach that is in Chambers County. Upon arrival, Deputies met with Galveston County authorities, who had received the initial 911 call.

According to two people in the area, they saw a black Ford four door truck driving in the area of the beach. The truck stopped for a few minutes, and then a gunshot was heard from inside the truck. A few minutes later a white male exited the truck, screaming that his wife had shot herself. The two people in the area did not witness the actual shooting, according to a press release from the Chambers County Sheriff’s Office.

The victim was identified as Doris Blair, a 51-year-old white female, who lived in Magnolia, Texas. However, she had a Mississippi driver’s license and family in that state.

Her husband, David Taylor, a 51-year-old white male from Magnolia, was the person with Blair at the time of the shooting, according to law enforcement. He was arrested on an unrelated warrant out of Walker County, Texas. He posted bond on the warrant the next day. Justice of the Peace Yale Devillier ordered an autopsy, but the results are pending.

Chambers County Sheriff Joe LaRive stated that his office, along with the Texas Rangers are conducting a thorough investigation into the incident to determine if this was a suicide or homicide. “It could take several days for the results of all crime scene evidence processing to be finalized.”

Since then, I have found out the following:
1. Doris was planning to leave David Taylor and return to Mississippi the following Monday. He wanted her to stay, but she was steadfast. He had been physically abusive to her, and there are medical records and eyewitnesses to prove it. After meeting online, they eventually hooked up, then she came to Texas. At first things were fine, but then David starting getting “weird” according to a family member. He asked Doris to have a threesome with him and another female. He was reportedly drinking, and by one account doing some drugs as well. He sent her to the hospital once, but she later tried to cover for him. This relationship had turned bitter and angry on both sides, and a crash was coming.

2. Taylor told police he had no idea where the gun used in the shooting came from. “I never saw that gun before in my life.” When I interviewed him, I asked “Do you know where she got the gun?” and he immediately told me he couldn’t talk anymore and hung up. Well, as it turns out, the gun was reported stolen several years ago in a break-in one night up in a small east Texas town.  Coincidentally, Taylor was arrested in that same town on the same night the burglary went down. Did David Taylor steal that pistol, then use it on Doris? Or, did Doris, who had never been to Texas, come over from Mississippi one night and steal a pistol, six years ago, on the same night David Taylor was busted in the same town. Hmmm…

3. David planned the trip to the beach to try to reconcile things with Doris. But he took her to the wrong beach. Doris was a religious, old-fashioned kind of girl, and he took her to the “swingers beach” at High Island. When they got there late Friday, according to Taylor himself and another source he spoke with, they mixed up some drinks and set up camp. Soon they had a couple of topless lesbians walk up and initiate a conversation, which Taylor seemed to think was all good. But Doris didn’t swing that way, and she wanted to be elsewhere. She copped an attitude.
So when bedtime came around, she slept on the ground in the tent, and David slept in the truck.
She was apparently more intent than ever on leaving him. The next morning she was dead.

4. Police have lost track of the two witnesses, but according to the police report, it was “several minutes” after the shot was heard that Taylor suddenly burst out of his truck, frantically screaming that Doris had shot herself. Why the long delay? Was he staging the scene? Wiping the gun? Disposing of evidence? Trying to come up with a story? Making sure she was dead? “Several minutes” is an awful long time when a person has just pulled out a gun and shot themselves.

5. Two months after the crime, family members came to Texas to say prayers at the murder scene. Guess what they found? Clothing and insurance papers that belonged to Doris Blair, inside a plastic bag, along with a sinister pair of rubber gloves. So apparently, Chambers County didn’t do a very good job of processing the crime scene. Did they even test Taylor or his for gunshot residue? Probably not.

The only conclusion I can draw from this story is: If I ever decide to kill someone, I’m going to do it in Chambers County. That way I don’t have to worry about cops, forensics, and prisons.  (GATOR)

Another Mardi Gras has come and gone, and it continues to get stupider (is that a word?) every year. This year, there was a “riot” that was quelled by brave police officers.
The fracas erupted while police were “clearing” the streets at 1:00 am, as they have been instructed to do on Friday and Saturday nights during Mardi Gras.
Officers,  some on foot, some mounted on horses and motorcycles, all armed, and    wearing riot gear advance like soldiers in a skirmish line down the street, sweeping away all people in their path. Any resistance means arrest or worse. That’s how Mardi Gras is done in G-Town by the Sea . It’s as if the City and those who are getting rich off the event are saying “Thanks for the money, now get the fuck out, right fucking now!”
They don’t do this in New Orleans.  The only time they clear the streets there is at midnight on Fat Tuesday, when the Lent season begins. On the weekends, the party goes on until dawn. That’s how the real Mardi Gras works.
They also don’t have a cover charge in Nawlins. They also haven’t harassed all the bars out of existence, so there are cool places to pop in and hear some music or buy a drink. All of which is why the Galveston Mardi Gras is a piss-poor imitation. Anyone who has been to the Crescent City for Mardi Gras will agree.
So, what about this alleged riot?
Well, police advanced on a group of people who were waving a large American flag, chanting “U-S-A, U-S-A!”
Some in the crowd threw beads. The police fired tear gas or pepper spray grenades into the crowd. Bottles were thrown. Seven were arrested, including Zach Flanagan, who had the misfortune to be leaving “The Lounge” at the time the melee occurred.
“The police beat the crap out of me for no reason. I walked out of The Lounge and had no idea there was a riot happening outside. The next thing I know, I am being slammed to the ground by a cop. He slams my face into the concrete, puts me in hand cuffs, and almost breaks my arms as he is lifting me up off the ground by my handcuffs. I did absolutely nothing wrong. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I got arrested. I was one of the seven. Now I have to go to court and pay for a lawyer.”
All of the media have praised the police and the event for how well they handled the rowdy partiers, and the handwringers are all worried that these miscreants are going to hurt tourism in Galveston.
Let me say this:
I paid for myself and my wife to get into this event, which closes down public streets (which I paid for) for the benefit of private businesses. I also paid to park. Then I spent my money to have a good time.
So, under what Constitutional authority do the police and the event operators tell any adult that he cannot be on any public street at whatever hour he chooses?
When did they become the owners, and when did we become the cattle?
That is my fucking street. It does not belong to the City of Galveston, the State of Texas, or the United States of America, it belongs to We the People. It sure as fuck does not belong to the organizers of this watered-down ersatz version of Mardi Gras.
This “riot” did not start until the police started advancing on the crowd, who were doing fine until the goon squad showed up.
The people in that crowd probably thought it was very un-American to be forced off public property where they were peacefully and lawfully assembled. I agree.
I’m not upset with the Galveston police. They just do what they are told to do. If they are told to clear the streets, they will do so. But whoever came up with this bright idea is a goddamned Nazi, and this is their fault.
If the powers in Galveston want Mardi Gras to be “successful”, they need to deregulate it. Get the City and the politicians out of it.
Do what they do at the real Mardi Gras and Let the Good Times Roll. Get rid of the cover charges and the strip searches.
And for christsakes, stop trying to make an adult party event into some kind of “family friendly” tourist attraction!

County Court Judge Christoper Dupuy has emerged as the best entertainment in town. From one day to the next, you just never know what his next zany caper will be.

At the time he was running for office in 2010, he was serving probation from the state bar association for professional misconduct. He is named in a $500,000 fraud and malpractice lawsuit that accuses him of engaging in conduct that resulted in hundreds of thousands of dollars of damages to his own law clients. Stemming from that suit, a judge ordered Dupuy to pay $7,500 in sanctions and accused him of filing motions for the purpose of delay and without sufficient evidence. He was even sued by his own uncle for not paying back a   personal loan in the amount of $25,000!
Shortly after the sanctions, Dupuy filed bankruptcy, his second such filing since 2004.  In the latest bankruptcy filing, the judge listed $299,772 as the amount owed to creditors. That included fees from attorneys, credit card companies, four civil suits, two foreclosures, two repossessions and two student loans. The bankruptcy was dismissed in December.
Dupuy was removed from a divorce case last fall in which one of the lawyers had been the attorney for Dupuy’s ex-wife in the couple’s divorce case. Dupuy threw the lawyer out of court, then reportedly questioned his client.
An appeals court recently reversed Dupuy’s judgement in a lawsuit, awarding over $600,000 to a plaintiff in a suit against Del Monte Fruit. In a separate case, the appeals court  also reversed his judgements in a case involving Citibank.
Then last month, Judge Dupuy tried to have attorney Lori Laird thrown in jail for filing a motion asking that Dupuy be removed from a divorce case. Laird stated in the motion that Dupuy was prejudiced against her, and that she could not get a fair shake in his court.
Her motion gave reasons why she felt compelled to seek a change. Dupuy was so angered by the filing that he leveled charges of criminal contempt against Laird.
A few days ago, Laird’s case came to court. In a strange “star chamber” hearing, no one from the District Attorney’s office presented charges against Laird. The DA’s table was unoccupied.  There was a district attorney there, but he sat in the spectators section, apparently there just to enjoy the show. Not to be undone by the lack of a prosecutor, Dupuy himself charged Laird with criminal contempt. Since there were no witnesses, he also testified that Laird’s motion to recuse was proof of criminal contempt. He invited her attorneys to answer the charges, but they responded that there were no witnesses to cross examine, and that no proper case or admissible evidence had been presented. Dupuy didn’t let that stop him. He held Laird in contempt and recommended 110 days in jail. Laird was not jailed, but was released on personal bond according to state law. Her sentencing, if any, must be imposed by a state court judge.
Also last month, the judge asked the County Commission to replace the administrator of the county justice administration, Bonnie Quiroga. For her part, Quiroga said that Dupuy was retaliating against her because of “actions taken by me and my office with regard to possible wrongdoing, including making inappropriate purchases on the county-issued credit card, discussions regarding abuse of judicial authority, bullying and intimidation, retaliation toward both female employees and female private attorneys, security violations, misuse of county equipment for personal use, and assisting a litigant and use of common areas of the courts building for non-court related matters.”
Meanwhile, the District Attorney is investigating claims that Dupuy used software and/or equipment belonging to the county to help his girlfriend with a child custody case.  State law defines such activity as Abuse of Official capacity.  Dupuy has been dating the woman, who is a dental hygienist and is not represented by an attorney in the custody case. Legal documents sent to the other party’s attorney from her were allegedly faxed from a phone number used by Dupuy in his official capacity.
Depuy seems to think it’s all a massive political conspiracy. “The political disruptions of my ex-wife and her attorneys are nonsense,” he said. “Every reasonable attorney in the county knows it. Indeed, the facts and evidence have always shown that every political allegation made has never had any factual basis. I’m not calling these handful of people   liars, just that they have an awful hard time being truthful.”
And the clown show continues. Maybe I will be arrested for writing this article…

A group representing merchants in the Strand District of Galveston is seeking to have significant changes made in the way the Mardi Gras and other downtown events are handled.
The Strand Merchants Association has called for an end to gate fees and beer booths.
They have also asked that the City take control of the event instead of subcontracting it out to a private business. The merchants claim that they have lost money due to events like Mardi Gras and the Lone Star Bike Rally, because of gate fees, barricades, and fencing.

The association also wants to stop the practice of paying bands to perform concerts outdoors, and instead let the event focus on parades, with music being provided indoors at the various clubs in the district. In other words, they want the Galveston Mardi Gras to be more like the New Orleans Mardi Gras.
The City has contracted with Mike Dean of Yaga’s thru 2015. Under the agreement, Dean pays the city $100,000 and gets to keep the rest of the money generated by the event. The City is still obligated to provide police and sanitation services for the event.  According to analyst Tom Parchman, the City is certainly losing money on the agreement.
“They have to be losing a minimum of $50,000, and as much as four times that amount” Parchman told Gator Press. “It’s a sweetheart deal, no doubt. The promoter couldn‘t lose money if he tried, it‘s just too good a deal.”
Admission fees were $17 per person for this year’s Mardi Gras. The first weekend reportedly drew 200,000 people, according to the Galveston Island Convention and Visitor’s Bureau. If a similar number attended the second weekend, then that would add up to nearly $7 million in attendance fees alone, not counting vendor fees, parade fees, parking lot revenues, and other moneymakers.

A 21 year old girl, reported missing by her boyfriend was found safe and sound, but naked, in a local bed.  Sandra Bruckner was discovered asleep in the bed by Christine  Earmine on February 16th, after a party.
Earmine reportedly found the nude woman in her fiancee’s bed, at a home in League City. Her fiancee, Bob Canaraka, claimed he had “absolutely no idea where that nude girl came from, or how she got into my bed. I woke up when Christine accidentally poured scalding water on my crotch, and there the gal was, just laying there next to me.”

The woman had to be revived using a bat, but otherwise was unharmed. Bruckner then apologized to the couple, blaming the incident on sleepwalking, theorizing that she must have walked the eight miles in her sleep. Her boyfriend, Bill Pone, is just glad she returned safely. The mystery of how she got there may never be known.
“The Lord works in mysterious ways” Pone said, adding that he and Bruckner expect to be married when their divorces are finalized.
Coincidentally, this is the second time Earmine has found a nude woman in Canaraka’s bed. Last year one was discovered in the same place, and turned out to be a fugitive from justice on unpaid library fines.
Police theorize she remained hidden in the bed for weeks without Canaraka’s knowledge.

A 125 lb. capsule will be sent on a journey though space to distant solar systems in hopes of someday curing dreaded diseases.
The distance the capsule will travel will take a minimum of 300 years. When the capsule arrives, it will make itself known to any inhabitants of the Omega 2 solar system by emitting radio, light, and audio signals.
Astronomers have long believed that Omega 2 is the most likely known solar system to be inhabited by intelligent beings.
Inside the capsule aliens will find samples of incurable diseases such as SARS, AIDS, and Ebola. Pictures depicting symptoms and a map showing where Earth is located will also be included. It is hoped some distant civilization will someday arrive with cures to these deadly germs.
The capsule is the brainchild of Egdar Woji, a world famous NASA phlebotomist.

Germs from Earth will travel millions of miles through the universe in search of a cure.

A civil jury in Houston has cleared a San Leon resident of federal charges stemming from his use of “medicinal” marijuana.
Joe C. Blount was charged after Dr. Myron Quentin prescribed marijuana to treat a severe case of dandruff. Prosecutors described Blount as a “rabid, viperous, pot-crazed sex fiend”, while defense attorney Charlie Hanker portrayed his client as an innocent victim and upstanding member of the community. He described to jurors how Blount “goes by the church 3 or 4 times a day” – but was refuted on cross-examination when state prosecutors pointed out that he has never stopped, only driven past.

Joe Blount

In the end, the jury, composed entirely of homeless elderly tattoo artists, decided that  Blount was innocent, and all charges were dismissed.
On hearing of the verdict, Dr. Quentin told Gator Press “What paper are you with? The Mainland Press? …hmmmm – never heard of it… no comment.” Dr. Quentin is facing a separate case in which he may lose his license to fish.

A guy walks into a bar in Pasadena and orders a triple scotch. The bartender pours him the drink and the guy downs it in one gulp. “Wow” says the bartender, “Something bad must have happened!” “Yeah it did,” he said. “I came home early today, went up to the bedroom, and found my wife having sex with my best friend.” The bartender pours the guy another triple shot. “This one’s on the house.” The dude gulps it down once again. The bartender asks “Did you say anything to your wife?” The guy answers “Yea, I walked up to her, told her to pack her bag’s and get out!” “What about your friend?” asks the bartender.
“I looked him straight in the eye and said BAD DOG”

An angry wife was complaining about her husband spending all his free time in a certain bar in Santa Fe, so one night he took her along with him. “What’ll you have?” he asked. “Oh, I don’t know. The same as you I suppose,” she replied. So, the husband ordered a couple of shots of Jack Daniel’s and threw his down in one shot. His wife watched him, then took a sip from her glass and immediately spat it out. “Yuck, that’s TERRIBLE!” she spluttered. “I don’t know how you can drink this stuff!” “Well, there you go,” cried the husband. “And you think I’m out enjoying myself every night!”

A blonde walks into a restaurant in Seabrook to get some dinner, and while she’s deciding on what she wants a waitress comes up. The blonde looks up and notices the waitress’s name tag on her shirt. ”Gee, that’s nice. What did you name the other one?”

A little boy goes up to his father and asks: “Dad, what’s the difference between hypothetical and reality?”
The father replies: “Well son, I could give you the book definitions, but I feel it could be best to show you by example. Go upstairs and ask your mother if she’d have sex with the mailman for $500,000.”
The boy goes and asks his mother: “Mom, would you have sex with the mailman for $500,000?” The mother replies: “Hell yes I would!”
The little boy returns to his father: “Dad, she said ‘Hell yes I would!'”
The father then says: “Okay, now go and ask your older sister if she’d have sex with her principal for $500,000.”
The boy asks his sister: “Would you have sex with your principal for $500,000?” The sister replies: “Hell yes I would!”
He returns to his father: “Dad, she said ‘Hell yes I would!'”
The father answers: “Okay son, here’s the deal: Hypothetically, we’re sitting on a million bucks, but in reality, we’re just shacked up with a couple of whores.”

This guy goes to a doctor and says he has a problem with sex.
“Doc, I think my dick is just too damn small,” he says.
The doctor asks him which drink he prefers.
Well, beer,” he replies, wondering what fucking difference it makes..
“Aaaahhh. There’s your problem, it shrinks things, beer does.. you should try drinking straight whiskey. It comes from the grain, and it makes things grow.”
Two months later the dude returns to the doctor with a big smile on his face.
He shakes the doctor by the hand and thanks him.
“I take it you’re now drinking straight whiskey?” asked the doctor.
“Oh no, Doc,” replies the man, “but I’ve got the ole lady drinking beer!”

Jeff walks into a bar in La Porte and sees his friend Paul slumped over the bar. He walks over and asks Paul what’s wrong.
“Well,” replies Paul, “you know that beautiful girl at work that I wanted to ask out, but I got a hardon every time I saw her?”
“Yes,” replies Jeff with a laugh.
“Well,” says Paul, straightening up, “I finally got up enough courage to ask her out, and she said yes.”
“That’s great!” says Jeff, “When are you going out?”
“I went to meet her this evening,” continues Paul, “but I was worried I’d get a boner again. So I got some duct tape and taped my hooter to my leg, so if I did, it wouldn’t show.”
“Makes sense to me” says Jeff.
“So I get to her door,” says Paul, “and I rang her doorbell. She answered it in the tiniest little see-thru mini dress you ever seen.”
“And what happened then?”
(Paul slumps back over the bar again.) “I kicked that poor girl right in the face!”

A farmer is sitting in the neighborhood bar in Alvin, slowly getting drunk. A man comes in and asks the farmer, “Hey, why are you sitting here on this beautiful day getting drunk?”
The farmer says, “Some things you just can’t explain.”
“So what happened that is so horrible?” the man asked.
The farmer then decides to try an answer, “Well if you must know, today I was sitting by my cow milking her. Just as I got the bucket about full, she took her left leg and kicked it over.”
“That’s not so bad, what’s the big deal?”
The farmer says, “Some things you just can’t explain.”
“So what happened?” the man asked again.
The farmer relenting, continued “I took her left leg and tied it to the post on the left with some rope. Then I sat down and continued to milk her. Just as I got the bucket about full she took her right leg and kicked it over.”
“Again?”
The farmer says, “Yep. Some things you just can’t explain.”
“So, what did you do then?” then man asked, intrigued.
“I took her right leg and tied it to the post on the right side. Then I sat back down and just continued to milk her, but just as I got the bucket just about full, the stupid cow knocks over the bucket with her tail.”
“Wow, you must have been pretty upset!” the man says, “but that’s no reason to just sit here getting all depressed.”
The farmer says, “Some things you just can’t explain.”
“So then what else did you do?” the man asked again.
“Well I didn’t have any more rope, so I took off my belt and tied her tail to the rafter. That’s when my pants fell down and my wife walked in.  Some things you just can’t explain!”

As long as there is money to be made in the heroin business, the United States will keep troops in Afghanistan.  And there is an enormous amount of money being made there since the invasion which started in 2001.  Since that time, opium production in the country has gone up by 3,300% and arrests for cultivating and processing the drug have become rare.

Historically, Afghanistan is not a region known for heroin production or the growth of the poppies used to make the narcotic. The drug was virtually unknown there until after the CIA sent advisors into the country to assist the Afghan Mujahideen in their war against the Soviet Union during the late 1980s.  During that era, CIA-controlled guerilla leaders initiated the planting of opium poppies in areas they occupied. Across the border in Pakistan, laboratories were set up to process the raw opium into pure heroin, which was then exported from the country aboard aircraft operated by the CIA and proprietary fronts like Haliburton.  Immune from Customs, these flights delivered their cargo to the United States and Europe, where they were sold through a network of drug kingpins operating under cover of immunity.
When the Taliban took over the country in 1994, operations continued as usual. In exchange for military and financial aid, the government of Afghanistan continued the practice of allowing the CIA to operate this heroin enterprise with few problems. But in 2000, alarmed that some Afghans were falling victim to heroin addiction, the Taliban outlawed the growing of poppies, and started destroying the crops. Arrests were made. Suddenly, one of the largest illegal industries in the world was on the verge of catastrophe.
That is the primary reason we invaded Afghanistan. To protect the heroin business.

Elvis was a narc...

The prime operator in Afghanistan was a man named Richard Armitage, whose bio includes being the biggest heroin trafficker in Cambodia and Laos during the Vietnam War; director of the State Department’s Foreign Narcotics Control Office (a front for CIA drug dealing); head of the Far East Company (used to funnel drug money out of the Golden Triangle); a very close liaison with Oliver North during the Iran-Contra cocaine-for-guns scandal; a primary Pentagon official in the terror and covert ops field under George Bush the Elder; one of the original signatories of the infamous PNAC “New Pearl Harbor” document; and the man who helped CIA Director William Casey run weapons to the Mujahideen during their war against the Soviet Union. Armitage was stationed in Iran during the mid-1970s right before Ayatollah Khomeini overthrew the Shah. Armitage may well be the greatest covert operator in history. He may also be the greatest drug dealer in history.
On Sept. 10, 2001, Armitage met with the UK’s national security advisor, Sir David Manning. What was that meeting about? Was Armitage “passing on specific intelligence information about the impending terrorist attacks”?
The scenario is plausible because one day later, on 9-11, Dick Cheney called for Armitage’s presence down in his bunker. Immediately after WTC 2 was struck, Mr. Armitage told BBC Radio, “I was told to go to the operations center. I spent the rest of the day in the ops center with the vice president.”
These two share a long history. Not only was Armitage employed by Cheney’s company,  Halliburton (via Brown & Root), he was also a deputy when Cheney was secretary of defense under Bush the Elder. More importantly, Cheney and Armitage still had joint business and consulting interests in the Central Asian pipeline which had been proposed by Unocal.
Since the 1980s, Armitage had amassed a huge roster of allies in Pakistan’s secret police. He was also one of the “Vulcans” – along with Condi Rice, Paul Wolfowitz, Richard Perle, and Rabbi Dov Zakheim – who coordinated Bush’s geo-strategic foreign policy initiatives. Then, after 9-11, he negotiated with the Pakistanis prior to our invasion of Afghanistan, while also becoming Bush’s deputy secretary of state stationed in Afghanistan.
The proposed Unocal pipeline through Afghanistan had been rejected by the Taliban, who opted to deal with a different contractor. At stake were trillions of dollars in oil money, and trillions more in illegal drug money.  In a final meeting about the Unocal pipeline deal, US officials warned Taliban negotiators that they must “accept our offer of a carpet of gold, or we will bury you under a carpet of bombs.” This was one month before the 9-11 attacks.
Our “enemy,” of course, was the Taliban “terrorists” who were connected to the 9-11 attacks. This in spite of the fact that no evidence of any such connection has ever surfaced, and in spite of the fact that until they rejected the pipeline and shut off the heroin, they were allies.
We do know that George Tenet, Colin Powell, Porter Goss, and Armitage himself had all   developed close relationships with Pakistan’s military head of secret intelligence, General Mahmoud Ahmad, who was cited in a Sept. 2001 FBI report as “supporting and financing the alleged 9-11 terrorists, as well as having links to al Qaeda and the Taliban.”
So the line between friend and foe gets even murkier.
Afghan President Hamid Karzai not only collaborated with the Taliban, but he was also on Unocal’s payroll in the mid-1990s. He is also described by Saudi Arabia’s top newspaper as being “a Central Intelligence Agency covert operator since the 1980s who collaborated with the CIA in funding U.S. aid to the Taliban.”
Capturing a new, abundant source for heroin was an integral part of the U.S. “war on terror.” Hamid Karzai is a puppet ruler of the CIA; Afghanistan is a full-fledged narco-state; and the poppies that flourish there have yet to be eradicated, as was proven in 2003 when the Bush administration refused to destroy the crops, despite having the chance to do so.
Major drug dealers are rarely arrested, smugglers enjoy carte blanche immunity, and a leading London newspaper has theorized that “U.S. Army planes leave Afghanistan carrying coffins empty of bodies, but filled with drugs.” Is that why the military protested so vehemently when reporters tried to photograph returning caskets?
Our government was caught dealing drugs before, in the 1980s, when a reporter for the San Jose Mercury News uncovered proof that the CIA had been flying planeloads of cocaine into the US from Honduras, which fueled the introduction of crack cocaine into Los Angeles, and later all of the cities of America. The reporter who uncovered this crime network was later found dead with two bullets in his head. His death was ruled a suicide!
Prior to that, the CIA was involved in importing heroin from southeast Asia aboard military flights during the Vietnam era. For the past fifty years the CIA has been the primary supplier of hard core narcotics that reach the streets of America.
According to retired congressman and former presidential candidate Ron Paul, not only has the CIA been involved for many years in the international drug trade, but former president Bush the First was “deep into it” as a money-making venture.
So, while our local cops and judges are working hard to stop the illegal drug business from ruining a generation of young folks, high officials in our own government have been involved in supplying the drugs under cover of official business.
Now that you know, that’s one more person they will have to kill.

A redhead tells her blonde stepsister, “ I slept with a Brazilian…”
The blonde replies, “Oh my God! You slut! How many is a Brazilian?”

A dog, a cat, and a penis are sitting around a camp fire one night.
The dog says, “My life sucks, my master makes me do my business on a fire hydrant!”.
The cat says, “I don’t think so, my master makes me do my business in a box of cat litter.”
The penis outraged, says “At least your master doesn’t put a bag over your head
and make you do push ups until you throw up!”

A man is in a bar and has one too many drinks. This beautiful lady sits down next to him. He turns to her and says “Hey how bout it. You and me, gettin it on. I’ve got a couple dollars and it looks like you could use a little money.” She stands up and says, “What makes you think I charge by the inch?”

Two blondes walking down the street.  One reaches into her pocketbook for a make up compact and looks into the mirror.  “This picture looks like someone I know” she says.  The other one has a look and says, “Of course dummy, it’s ME….”

Little Johnny comes home from school one day and asks his mother what “shit” meant.
Thinking fast she replied “food on the table.”
Next day he comes home and asks his mother what does “son of a bitch” mean.
Again, thinking fast again she says “It’s a priest.”
Next day he comes home and asks what does “fuckin'” mean. She says it means “getting dressed.”
That same night a priest was coming over for dinner. Johnny is just finished setting the table when he hears the doorbell ring.
He yells “got it”. He opens the door and says “Hey son of a bitch, shits on the table and mom and dad are upstairs fuckin’.”

A man and a woman having drinks got into an argument about who enjoyed sex more.
The man said, “Men obviously enjoy sex more than women. Why do you think we’re so obsessed with getting laid?”
“That doesn’t prove anything,” the woman countered. “Think about this: when your ear itches and you put your finger in it and wiggle it around, then pull it out, which feels better: your ear or your finger?”

A married man decided to work late to be with his sexy secretary, so he called his wife to make up an excuse.
After work he invited his secretary to dinner. It soon became obvious that he was going to get lucky, so the two went back to her apartment and had great sex for two hours.
Afterward the fellow went to the bathroom to straighten up for the trip home and noticed a huge hickey on his neck. He panicked, wondering what to tell his wife.
After the man unlocked his front door, his dog came bounding to greet him. Aha, the man thought, and promptly fell to the carpet, pretending to fight off the affectionate animal. Holding his neck with one hand, he said, Honey, look what the dog did to my neck!
Hell, she answered, ripping open her blouse.
Look what he did to my tits!

These three guys are in a bar, having a few beers, and checking out the babes as they enter the establishment. One walks in, rather attractive, and they “discuss” her “rating,” which is on a 1 to 10 scale.
One says, “I’d give her a 7. She’s really quite pretty.” Another agrees, and so does the third.
The bartender, while bringing a new round of drinks to their table, overhears their rating of the young lass. He checks her out himself and says, “I’d give her a 3.”
“A 3?” says one of the three guys at the table. “She’s a real pretty girl.”
The bartender, walking away, says, “Well, I use the Budweiser method for rating women.”
The guys look at each other, figure the bartender has lousy taste in women, and go back to their ratings. Moments later, another young lady, prettier than the last, walks into the bar, and they confer between themselves and decide she deserves a 9.
However, the bartender, wiping off the table nearest to theirs, again overhears their rating of the gal. He checks her out himself and tells the fellows that he’d only give her a 5.
“A 5? How can you give her just a 5? She’s absolutely gorgeous!”
The bartender casually replies that he uses the Budweiser method for rating women.
“The Budweiser method?” they puzzle, as the bartender returns to his post behind the bar. They are quite confused.
Three, maybe four minutes pass by, and then a stunning blonde goddess walks into the bar. Long luscious legs, sexy shape. Truly a work of flawless perfection. Without hesitation, the three “judges” at the table determine that this young sultress is, without any doubt, a 10.
However, carrying a case of beer past them to restock the supply behind the bar, the bartender once more overhears their rating of the girl. He glances studiously at her, and says that the best, the very best that he could give her, would be a 7.
“A 7 ?!? How in the world could you give her just a 7? She’s friggin’ gorgeous!”
“Well,” says the bartender again, “I use the Budweiser method for rating women.”
“Budweiser!” says one of the guys, exasperated. “What in the hell is this ‘Budweiser method’ for rating women?”
“Well, says the bartender, “the Budweiser method for rating women is the number of those giant Budweiser Clydesdales it would take to pull me off of her!”