Category Archives: Sam Damon

OK (but, reluctantly)

Saw American Sniper this afternoon at an IMAX.  A funny thing happened at the end of the movie — nothing. The people, and it was an older crowd, some wearing service ball caps, sat through the credits and said nothing. Then they got up and left. There was none of the usual, “That’s was great,” or “that sucked.” People just left. In fact, we left, got in my friend’s truck and were pulling out of the parking lot before my wife asked what we thought of the movie. I think Clint Eastwood and Bradley Cooper should win Oscars. The movie was extremely well done. The comaraderie among the troopers seemed natural and genuine. It was also disturbing. Not in a Michael Moore sort of way. He’s a freekin’ idiot. Chris Kyle was a hero and Moore should recognize that. Kyle saved a lot of lives both over there and back here. It’s too bad that in the end he couldn’t save his own.

Sam Damon

Walkin’ small but carrying a big stick

So tell us dude in the red shirt, tea party mo fo from the Peoples’ Republic of Arizona — what were you going to do with that stick?

GTY_adam_kwasman_jef_140716_16x9_608The stick you were holding with your right hand on a bright sunny day while apparently pointing at something — maybe a bus — carrying kids to the Y?

Yeah, the Y.

What’s crazy about the photo is that you’re apparently trying to explain to your main man and fellow tea sipper state Rep. Adam Kwasman, how you were only going to use your stick to beat the hell out of Central American kids, or Mexican kids, or kids from down there, or over there, or somewhere.

See, that Kwasman guy sent out a message on the super secret tea party message system — Twitter — to make sure you’d be there to stop the bus and teach a lesson to them little shit heads who’d traveled thousands, hundreds, tens of miles through mine fields, property owned by drug lords and a smelly-assed river, to cut your grass or serve you a marguerite.

They’re unwelcome, of course, unless they were really good at picking cotton.

(Look away, look away, look away, Dixie land …)

No matter how Kwasman’s message was received, it read:

“Bus coming in. This is not compassion. This is the abrogation of the rule of law.”

It didn’t quite say Annie get your gun, but if you had saved enough stamps to spend on the decoder ring, you would have figured out that a red shirt and stick were part of the uniform of the day.

By the way, what kind of name is Kwasman? Does it sound Murican enough to you guy in the red shirt with a stick in your right hand readSam Damony to beat the liven’ jesus out of some kid from somewhere south of the People’s Republic of Arizona?

Kwasman sounds like a lot of other Murican names such as Gehrig, Garcia, Sandberg, Jimenez, Smith, Musial, Cronkite, Eisenhower, Cruz, Palin, McCain, Jeter, Johnson, Nimitz, Sullenberger or Boehner.

Guy in the red shirt — you know where you can stick that stick. The sun ain’t shinin’ there.