Ok.........

.......So I feel Romantic......Sue me. *Well, not you, Digi...you're a Lawyer and all......*

Every single word of this song, even though it's by a tree hugging nut wad....speaks to me, and it's All about my Dragn.......

And....NO.....I'm neither in trouble nor horney....Sheesh!

There's something in the way she moves,
Or looks my way, or calls my name,
That seems to leave this troubled world behind.
And if I'm feeling down and blue,
Or troubled by some foolish game,
She always seems to make me change my mind.

Chorus:
And I feel fine anytime she's around me now,
She's around me now
Just about all the time
And if I'm well you can tell she's been with me now,
She's been with me now quite a long, long time
And I feel fine.

Every now and then the things I lean on lose their meaning
And I find myself careening
Into places where I should not let me go.
She has the power to go where no one else can find me
And to silently remind me
Of the happiness and the good times that I know, got to know.

Chorus:
And I feel fine anytime she's around me now,
She's around me now
Just about all the time
And if I'm well you can tell she's been with me now,
She's been with me now quite a long, long time
And I feel fine.

It isn't what she's got to say
But how she thinks and where she's been
To me, the words are nice, the way they sound
I like to hear them best that way
It doesn't much matter what they mean
If she says them mostly just to calm me down

Chorus:
And I feel fine anytime she's around me now,
She's around me now
Just about all the time
And if I'm well you can tell she's been with me now,
She's been with me now quite a long, long time
And I feel fine.

I've been a LOT of places, done a LOT of questionable things, hell, done a LOT of things that would turn the stomach of most any Person.......'spescially Liberal folkes.......

And I have a few issues.....TBI, ADD, a bit of PTSD I 'spose...but you know what? When I get off of work and head out, the thing I want the most is to be with my Dragn........

Sure, sometimes I swing by the watering hole, but I finally feel Whole when I'm with her......

Karla....oh, that's her name......I Love you.
Wollf

Picture Cleaning Day........

.......Oh come on, you look forward to it.....

Ransom in his Halloween Costume......hmmmm, is that a costume? He's been acting strangely.......

Nothing to say except, "Yup"......

I guess this is the proof....Polar Bears just can't read.......

If Bueracrats wrote signs.......

Safe as a puppy in a Soldiers pocket........

......and finally, Dragn's morning cup of Joe........

Because when I'm in picture cleaning mode.........

That is all.....steal as you wish, that's how I got 'em.......
Wollf

Car Testing....the G-Whiz......

No Politics, no WTF is our President bowing to another leader, no WTF are they thinking, bringing bringing the mastermind murderer back to New York just blocks from Ground Zero, no complaints about anything today.....

I had a wonderful weekend with Dragn, Wolfie the Elder, and Lil' Wolfie....so I'm going to hold on to my darn good mood........

And this short Video just absolutely does it for me.

Those of you who have honored me by a visit to The Lair might recognize that that "guest actor" is exactly our Breakfast Room table.........



Heh....didn't expect THAT, did you?

As for our house, it's my 3/4 ton GMC Truck and Dragn's Avalanche.....don't need my Table making a laughing stock of me or my vehicles.....

I mean, srsly......the friggin table didn't even move.......
Wollf...Gas Guzzler, little car smooshin, SUV driver.....

This one's close to home.......

Our Ops Manager at work....his Son's Best Friend, Lt.Brian Giroux, on a routine resupply mission in 'Ghanistan.......

Folkes, take it from me.....there is no such thing as routine......

From NPR

One of the most lethal areas in Afghanistan for U.S. troops is the Arghandab Valley, a Taliban stronghold just outside the southern city of Kandahar.

The Army's 5th Stryker Brigade Combat Team from Fort Lewis, Wash., patrols the area, facing the risk of huge roadside bombs.

One platoon already has lost 11 soldiers, and several more were seriously wounded — about one-third of the force.

One day last week, more bad news crackled over the radio: a Taliban attack and casualties in 2nd Platoon.

Responding to the call, 1st Sgt. Charles Burrow of Charlie Company orders soldiers to mount their eight-wheeled armored vehicles, called Strykers. They race toward a plume of smoke, rising above the trees just a half-mile away.

"When we get there, I need you to bring medic and link up with me. Bring whatever first aid stuff you got, and a smoke grenade," Burrow says into the radio.

The Strykers cross a bridge. A cluster of Afghan men and children look nervously at the passing convoy.

The Army vehicles bounce through a wide and barren field, alongside a dirt road. In the middle of that road, they see every soldier's nightmare: a Stryker flipped over, flames and thick black smoke pouring out — the work of a roadside bomb.

An Explosion, Then Gunfire

Bursts of automatic rifle fire rattle. Other soldiers are crouched in a drainage ditch, firing their weapons toward a tree line about 300 yards away. The Taliban have mounted what is called a "complex attack," a roadside bomb followed by a wave of fire from AK-47s.

Spc. Riley Sheffield of Boise, Idaho, looks toward a tree line as insurgents fire on the convoy, just after the roadside bomb exploded. Soldiers from Charlie Company exchanged fire with insurgents for over an hour.


Spc. Riley Sheffield of Boise, Idaho, looks toward a tree line as insurgents fire on the convoy, just after the roadside bomb exploded. Soldiers from Charlie Company exchanged fire with insurgents for over an hour.

Gunfire crackles from both sides as the Strykers open up with their machine guns and grenade launchers.

Burrow and others move up the road, under fire, toward the wounded. Two Kiowa helicopters come over the mountains and buzz angrily just above the tree line, keeping watch for the soldiers on the ground and looking for enemies to strike.
Some of the soldiers have already jumped into the bomb crater and dug out two survivors from the roadside blast.

This platoon was supposed to be on light duty back at their base. They had lost seven men just the week before in another roadside bomb attack. On this day, they were out on a routine resupply mission down a road they often use, and got hit again.

The soldiers are still taking enemy fire, but Burrow tries to bring some order, telling some of his men to shoot toward the tree line, while directing others to take care of two wounded soldiers.

"You doin' OK?" Burrow asks one of his wounded comrades.

"I'm good, yeah," the injured man replies.

Tending The Wounded.........

Lt. Brian Giroux was riding in the back of the Stryker when it flipped over, leaving him partially trapped in a crater 7 feet deep and some 28 feet across. Giroux has two broken bones in his leg.

Burrow still doesn't know how many people were in the Stryker that was hit. So he asks the other wounded soldier, Sgt. Marquel Mendiola, who is face down on a stretcher, a trace of blood crusted on his lips.

"How many total were in the truck?" Burrow asks.

"There were four of us," the wounded sergeant responds, identifying the two others: Spc. Gary Gooch and Spc. Aaron Aamot.

Gooch, 22 of Ocala, Fla., and Aamot, 22, of Custer, Wash., were in the front of the Stryker when the bomb exploded. The body of one is trapped under the burning vehicle. The other body is nowhere to be seen.

"Gooch, Aamot, you and LT — that's it, right?" Burrow says, confirming that four were in the vehicle.

While some soldiers look for their missing comrades, others attend to the wounded. Mendiola is lucky; he only has a broken ankle.]

A medical evacuation helicopter lands in the field, and soldiers carry the sergeant and the lieutenant to the chopper.

Mourning The Dead...........

Back at the Stryker vehicle, soldiers work desperately to put out the flames around the body of Gooch. They pry a piece of metal away and pull him out into the open. The other soldiers find the body of Aamot out in a field.

As one of the bodies is put into a body bag, another soldier leans over and touches the bag and says: "God bless you, brother."

Meanwhile, some soldiers are in a ditch and pointing their weapons toward a mud hut in the distance, about 500 yards away. Rounds of ammunition inside the burning Stryker are basically cooking — popping off every few minutes.

Other soldiers are collecting pieces of the Stryker. A transmission sitting in the dirt road was blown about 50 yards away from the blast site.

More than an hour passes. The firefight is over. The soldiers move quietly through the fields, carefully gathering remnants: another piece of the engine, a helmet, a single combat boot. It will be dark soon, and they will have to return tomorrow to finish the job.

Sunset, A Flight And A Prayer.........
As the sun begins to set, Burrow says it is time for the "angel flight" for the two men killed in action. "Angel flight" is the term for the helicopter that carries away the dead — the first step that will bring these men back to their families. The helicopter lifts off with the bodies of the two soldiers from the Stryker brigade.

Later that night, back at their base on a hill just above the road where the Stryker was hit, the battalion's chaplain, Gary Lewis, gathers soldiers from Charlie Company. He heaves a sigh and begins: "All right, let's pray for our brothers now."

The soldiers huddle together in twos and threes, sharing a prayer written on slips of white paper. Their faces are illuminated in a circle of flashlights.

"We just saw them today, having fun with them, with the puppies and that. Now we have to let them go. God the Father," the chaplain continues with his prayer.

In the morning, many of the soldiers will rise before dawn and make their way down the mountain to recover the Stryker, which continues to burn.

It's past Veteran's Day....Don't forget them....and I think VALOR IT is still taking donations.....do it in the name of Army this time.....

G-d Bless our Men and Women at arms.....greiev for those lost, and rejoice in those that are making it home, help those who are injured.....

*Lt. Giroux is on his way home from Germany as I write this*
Wollf

Something you've never seen before........

......but of course with a great sound track.

For your Friday Cultural enjoyment, "Ode to Joy"......*with toy cars being blown up in slow motion*........



Of COURSE they go together, don't question my taste.....
Wollf

Obama Rejects National Security Team's Plan.......

WASHINGTON -- After months of deliberating, President Obama opted not to accept any of the Afghanistan war options presented by his national security team, pushing instead for revisions to clarify how and when U.S. troops would turn over responsibility to the Afghan government, a senior administration official said Wednesday.

That stance comes in the midst of forceful reservations about a possible troop buildup from the U.S. ambassador in Afghanistan, Karl Eikenberry, according to a second top administration official.

In strongly worded classified cables to Washington, Eikenberry said he had misgivings about sending in new troops while there are still so many questions about the leadership of Afghan President Hamid Karzai.

Instead, a possible plan by the POTUS would be to withdraw all troops currently in Afghanistan and invade Greenland.

It makes sense, as Greenland is a lot easier to subdue, the Government is not corrupt and is friendly to the United States, and he could chock up a much needed military win during his Presidency.........

Meanwhile, Troops are being killed while he makes up his mind.

Dammit.
Wollf

On the lighter side.....I woke up on Veteran's Day without a hint of a hangover....Tipped two beers to the Marine Corps and headed back to the Lair. Amazing what having a Wife that you enjoy being with will do for a guy's late nights.

Thanks for being you, Miss Dragn.

The Beginning, 10 November 1775........

Ask any Marine. Just ask. He will tell you that the Marine Corps was born in Tun Tavern on 10 November 1775. But, beyond that the Marine's recollection for detail will probably get fuzzy. So, here is the straight scoop:

In the year 1685, Samuel Carpenter built a huge "brew house" in Philadelphia. He located this tavern on the waterfront at the corner of Water Street and Tun Alley. The old English word tun means a cask, barrel, or keg of beer. So, with his new beer tavern on Tun Alley, Carpenter elected to christen the new waterfront brewery with a logical name, Tun Tavern.

Tun Tavern quickly gained a reputation for serving fine beer. Beginning 47 years later in 1732, the first meetings of the St. John's No. 1 Lodge of the Grand Lodge of the Masonic Temple were held in the tavern. An American of note, Benjamin Franklin, was its third Grand Master. Even today the Masonic Temple of Philadelphia recognizes Tun Tavern as the birthplace of Masonic teachings in America.

Roughly ten years later in the early 1740s, the new proprietor expanded Tun Tavern and gave the addition a new name, "Peggy Mullan's Red Hot Beef Steak Club at Tun Tavern." The new restaurant became a smashing commercial success and was patronized by notable Americans. In 1747 the St. Andrews Society, a charitable group dedicated to assisting poor immigrants from Scotland, was founded in the tavern.

Nine years later, then Col. Benjamin Franklin organized the Pennsylvania Militia. He used Tun Tavern as a gathering place to recruit a regiment of soldiers to go into battle against the Indian uprisings that were plaguing the American colonies. George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, and the Continental Congress later met in Tun Tavern as the American colonies prepared for independence from the English Crown.

On November 10, 1775, the Continental Congress commissioned Samuel Nicholas to raise two Battalions of Marines. That very day, Nicholas set up shop in Tun Tavern. He appointed Robert Mullan, then the proprietor of the tavern, to the job of chief Marine Recruiter -- serving, of course, from his place of business at Tun Tavern. Prospective recruits flocked to the tavern, lured by (1) cold beer and (2) the opportunity to serve in the new Corps of Marines. So, yes, the U.S. Marine Corps was indeed born in Tun Tavern. Needless to say, both the Marine Corps and the tavern thrived during this new relationship.

Tun Tavern still lives today......though in Atlantic City and in all our Hearts.... And, Tun Tavern beer is still readily available.