As a blog we do not support Barack but we do support the Corrigan Brothers cos some drunken idiot gave them the lead into ' there is noone as irish as Barack Obama'
Today's Bird HERE
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Song: Corrigan Brothers There's still no one as Irish as Barack O'Bama - Featu...
Editors note: This blog is totally anti Obama, but sadly some dunken idiot a few years back gave them the lead for 'there is no one as irisha as barack obama'. they are a great bunch of guys and this blog will continue to support them no matter what.
GRANNY PACKING HEAT
"An armed society is a polite society." - Robert Heinlein
If you can't read it the text is as follows:
I made a stop on an elderly lady the other day for speeding on MN State Highway 210 at Mile Marker 197 just east of McGregor MN.
I asked for her driver's license, registration and proof of insurance.
The lady took out the required information and handed it to me. In with the cards I was somewhat surprised (due to her advanced age) to see she had a Concealed Carry Permit. I looked at her and asked if she had a weapon in her possession at this time.
She responded that she indeed had a .45 automatic in her glove box.
Something - body language, or the way she responded - made me want to ask if she had any other firearms. She did admit also to having a 9mm Glock in her center console.
Now I had to ask one more time if that was all. She responded once again that she did have just one more - a .38 Special in her purse. I then asked her what she was so afraid of.
She looked me right in the eye and said, "Not a f--king thing!"
Today's Bird HERE
Mission creep just took over and I'm on the road for a little bit longer - should be back at home station by the weekend. Peace, Out - S.L..
If you can't read it the text is as follows:
I made a stop on an elderly lady the other day for speeding on MN State Highway 210 at Mile Marker 197 just east of McGregor MN.
I asked for her driver's license, registration and proof of insurance.
The lady took out the required information and handed it to me. In with the cards I was somewhat surprised (due to her advanced age) to see she had a Concealed Carry Permit. I looked at her and asked if she had a weapon in her possession at this time.
She responded that she indeed had a .45 automatic in her glove box.
Something - body language, or the way she responded - made me want to ask if she had any other firearms. She did admit also to having a 9mm Glock in her center console.
Now I had to ask one more time if that was all. She responded once again that she did have just one more - a .38 Special in her purse. I then asked her what she was so afraid of.
She looked me right in the eye and said, "Not a f--king thing!"
Today's Bird HERE
Mission creep just took over and I'm on the road for a little bit longer - should be back at home station by the weekend. Peace, Out - S.L..
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
THE WORD ON THE STREET
Read this article over the weekend in the WSJ: the story on the Station Chief who was KIA’d with six other officers in 2009, in Khost, Afghanistan – I first learned about OBL from the operation this woman ran out of an office in Alexandria, in 1997 - S.L.
For CIA family, a deadly suicide bombing leads to painful divisions
By Ian Shapira, Published: January 28
The call from the Central Intelligence Agency came on a December afternoon in 2009 while Gary Anderson was skiing with his three children. It’s about your wife, the agency man said.
Standing inside Eagle Rock ski lodge in Pennsylvania, Anderson pleaded for details. The CIA official said simply: Where are you?
We’ll meet you.
* * *
A Jordanian double agent’s suicide bombing of the CIA base received days of media coverage. The CIA had been tricked into welcoming one of al-Qaeda’s own onto the agency’s base, enabling him to detonate a vest laden with explosives. On television, pundits and agency retirees called the incident a catastrophe, Langley’s “Pearl Harbor.” Initially, commentators did not utter Matthews’s name, but they did describe the Khost base chief as a “mother of three.” Anderson felt that his wife, however anonymously, was bearing all the blame.
Five months after her burial at Arlington National Cemetery, Matthews’s name became public at a CIA ceremony honoring fallen employees.
. . . underneath, Anderson, 50, is seething. He’s angry with the teachings in the Koran that he believes incited the suicide bomber to kill Americans; he’s upset with the CIA for failing to realize that a prized informant was a double agent willing to blow himself up; and he’s hurt by the legion of critics, including Matthews’s uncle, who have questioned her qualifications for the job she was doing.
“The suicide bomber was a bad guy, but at the time, nobody could clearly see it,” Anderson said. “I think the agency prepared my wife to be a chief of the Khost base, but not in terms of preparing for this asset. This guy wasn’t vetted.” And the mother of his three children is dead because of it.
Read the whole thing HERE
Tragic for sure. Once again, Langley HAS to take the blame for this, not her - but they won't; she is their scapegoat.
The Head Shed HAD to have been involved. There were simply too many basic principles of tradecraft violated here – there is no way any single operator could be this stupid. The way I heard it, the brass at Langley were drooling at the bit; they TOLD her to bring him in for a love-in. A private in the 82d wouldn’t have done it like this.
The word on the street is that this thing was absolutely controlled from the highest levels. My source left the ‘CYA’ for this very reason; nothing happens in the field unless approved by Langley. It is THAT simple. They are the masters of CYA and shifting blame to operators when things go bad.
That is why I was never tempted to throw my hat into that ring.
CAG – the same thing. In SF we always knew we had more personal freedom than anybody else in the machine. That’s why I stayed SF; was never tempted to go CAG or The Company . We knew it was different for the National Level guys – they were under the microscope. We had 100% freedom of movement, 100% ability to make our own decisions on the tactical level. We could literally get away with murder.
An episode like this NEVER would have happened on my watch. Never in a million years.
-STORMBRINGER SENDS
.
For CIA family, a deadly suicide bombing leads to painful divisions
By Ian Shapira, Published: January 28
The call from the Central Intelligence Agency came on a December afternoon in 2009 while Gary Anderson was skiing with his three children. It’s about your wife, the agency man said.
Standing inside Eagle Rock ski lodge in Pennsylvania, Anderson pleaded for details. The CIA official said simply: Where are you?
We’ll meet you.
* * *
A Jordanian double agent’s suicide bombing of the CIA base received days of media coverage. The CIA had been tricked into welcoming one of al-Qaeda’s own onto the agency’s base, enabling him to detonate a vest laden with explosives. On television, pundits and agency retirees called the incident a catastrophe, Langley’s “Pearl Harbor.” Initially, commentators did not utter Matthews’s name, but they did describe the Khost base chief as a “mother of three.” Anderson felt that his wife, however anonymously, was bearing all the blame.
Five months after her burial at Arlington National Cemetery, Matthews’s name became public at a CIA ceremony honoring fallen employees.
. . . underneath, Anderson, 50, is seething. He’s angry with the teachings in the Koran that he believes incited the suicide bomber to kill Americans; he’s upset with the CIA for failing to realize that a prized informant was a double agent willing to blow himself up; and he’s hurt by the legion of critics, including Matthews’s uncle, who have questioned her qualifications for the job she was doing.
“The suicide bomber was a bad guy, but at the time, nobody could clearly see it,” Anderson said. “I think the agency prepared my wife to be a chief of the Khost base, but not in terms of preparing for this asset. This guy wasn’t vetted.” And the mother of his three children is dead because of it.
Read the whole thing HERE
Tragic for sure. Once again, Langley HAS to take the blame for this, not her - but they won't; she is their scapegoat.
The Head Shed HAD to have been involved. There were simply too many basic principles of tradecraft violated here – there is no way any single operator could be this stupid. The way I heard it, the brass at Langley were drooling at the bit; they TOLD her to bring him in for a love-in. A private in the 82d wouldn’t have done it like this.
The word on the street is that this thing was absolutely controlled from the highest levels. My source left the ‘CYA’ for this very reason; nothing happens in the field unless approved by Langley. It is THAT simple. They are the masters of CYA and shifting blame to operators when things go bad.
That is why I was never tempted to throw my hat into that ring.
CAG – the same thing. In SF we always knew we had more personal freedom than anybody else in the machine. That’s why I stayed SF; was never tempted to go CAG or The Company . We knew it was different for the National Level guys – they were under the microscope. We had 100% freedom of movement, 100% ability to make our own decisions on the tactical level. We could literally get away with murder.
An episode like this NEVER would have happened on my watch. Never in a million years.
-STORMBRINGER SENDS
.
Sunday, January 29, 2012
A JOURNEY BACK IN TIME
This morning I got on a train at Waterloo Station and went to Portsmouth to meet my Dad's colleague, an old friend of the family.
Matt was a British officer in the Indian Army during World War II. He led a company of Gurkhas in North Africa and Italy.
Needless to say, Matt is a charter member of Team STORMBRINGER
I haven't seen Matt since I was 15, but he has been following my career.
Matt is 88, and I found him still agile and mobile, happy and joking and smiling all the time. Incredibly, he hasn't changed a bit.
I told him we kids all thought he looked like David Niven. He laughed and laughed at that, and said David Niven came from Portsmouth, and of course they had similar military careers.
Matt was so happy to see me. Our plan was to visit the D-Day museum. As we drove toward it, Matt pointed out toward the Solent - the stretch of water between Portsmouth and the Isle of Wight - and said, "They say on the weeks before D-Day, you could walk right across the water, there were so many boats and ships lined up."
I asked Matt where he was on June 6th, 1944. He said, "Oh, I was a D-Day Dodger!" I know a little bit about what Matt went through fighting Germans in Italy, and he didn't dodge anything. Matt explained; Lady Astor was the first woman Member of Parliament. The legend goes that during the Normandy Campaign she blurted out something about the men of the 8th Army fighting in the Italian campaign as the "D-Day Dodgers"; implying that they had it easy because they were avoiding the "real war" in France. The Allied soldiers in Italy subsequently composed a bitingly sarcastic song to the tune of the haunting German song Lili Marleen; "The Ballad Of The D-Day Dodgers" - and Matt sang a few bars of it for me. I wish I could sing the way Matt does - I'd be a Rock Star.
When we got to the D-Day museum I asked, "Is there a military discount?" the young man at the counter said,
"For World War veterans, they go free."
"Good; two World War veterans." The young man looked at me like I was crazy. I pointed at Matt, then pointed at myself, "He's a World War II veteran, and I'm a World War III veteran."
That got a chuckle. "No, only the Second World War veterans get in free. This is the D-Day Museum."
They have an amazing embroidery that encircles an entire display hall.
Inspired by the Bayeaux Tapestry, that chronicled the Norman Conquest of 1066 - when William Duke of Normandy crossed the channel from France and became William the Great - thirty-four huge panels depict the stunning scenes of the world's greatest, most well-known and most chronicled military operation.
The embroideries are amazing; they are a significant cultural artifact, and they honor the men and women involved in the great Operation Overlord.
The official name of this incredible relic is THE OVERLORD EMBROIDERY
Matt and I had a grand old chinwag and reminisced about the Good Old Days. We toured around and looked at the countryside and the various military fortifications around Portsmouth, dating back to the Napoleanic Era, and before that, to the reign of King Henry the VIII, and before that, King Alfred the Great.
Then we went to his flat and I saw all the things from Indonesia, Bangladesh and Thailand - my upbringing, the places from where I knew Matt. We drank some wine and everytime we raised a glass we drank to "The Good Old Days!" and Matt would laugh and smile that charismatic smile of his. He told me stories about his life, stories about World War II and a few stories about our ex-pat life in Asia, a couple anecdotes I didn't know about (because I was a kid then).
It was a poignant moment in Time.
There will be more to come about Matt and his remarkable career - I simply don't have the time to write right now; there is an important project and Matt knows what it is, because I told him.
And then we drove down to Gosport and took the ferry to the train station. When I take off from Heathrow tomorrow morning, I will have travelled by automobile, ship, train and aircraft, all within 24 hours. This is an personal achievement I have been trying to gain this for at least the past thirty-four years.
STORMBRINGER SENDS
Matt was a British officer in the Indian Army during World War II. He led a company of Gurkhas in North Africa and Italy.
Needless to say, Matt is a charter member of Team STORMBRINGER
I haven't seen Matt since I was 15, but he has been following my career.
Matt is 88, and I found him still agile and mobile, happy and joking and smiling all the time. Incredibly, he hasn't changed a bit.
I told him we kids all thought he looked like David Niven. He laughed and laughed at that, and said David Niven came from Portsmouth, and of course they had similar military careers.
Matt was so happy to see me. Our plan was to visit the D-Day museum. As we drove toward it, Matt pointed out toward the Solent - the stretch of water between Portsmouth and the Isle of Wight - and said, "They say on the weeks before D-Day, you could walk right across the water, there were so many boats and ships lined up."
I asked Matt where he was on June 6th, 1944. He said, "Oh, I was a D-Day Dodger!" I know a little bit about what Matt went through fighting Germans in Italy, and he didn't dodge anything. Matt explained; Lady Astor was the first woman Member of Parliament. The legend goes that during the Normandy Campaign she blurted out something about the men of the 8th Army fighting in the Italian campaign as the "D-Day Dodgers"; implying that they had it easy because they were avoiding the "real war" in France. The Allied soldiers in Italy subsequently composed a bitingly sarcastic song to the tune of the haunting German song Lili Marleen; "The Ballad Of The D-Day Dodgers" - and Matt sang a few bars of it for me. I wish I could sing the way Matt does - I'd be a Rock Star.
When we got to the D-Day museum I asked, "Is there a military discount?" the young man at the counter said,
"For World War veterans, they go free."
"Good; two World War veterans." The young man looked at me like I was crazy. I pointed at Matt, then pointed at myself, "He's a World War II veteran, and I'm a World War III veteran."
That got a chuckle. "No, only the Second World War veterans get in free. This is the D-Day Museum."
They have an amazing embroidery that encircles an entire display hall.
Inspired by the Bayeaux Tapestry, that chronicled the Norman Conquest of 1066 - when William Duke of Normandy crossed the channel from France and became William the Great - thirty-four huge panels depict the stunning scenes of the world's greatest, most well-known and most chronicled military operation.
The embroideries are amazing; they are a significant cultural artifact, and they honor the men and women involved in the great Operation Overlord.
The official name of this incredible relic is THE OVERLORD EMBROIDERY
Matt and I had a grand old chinwag and reminisced about the Good Old Days. We toured around and looked at the countryside and the various military fortifications around Portsmouth, dating back to the Napoleanic Era, and before that, to the reign of King Henry the VIII, and before that, King Alfred the Great.
Then we went to his flat and I saw all the things from Indonesia, Bangladesh and Thailand - my upbringing, the places from where I knew Matt. We drank some wine and everytime we raised a glass we drank to "The Good Old Days!" and Matt would laugh and smile that charismatic smile of his. He told me stories about his life, stories about World War II and a few stories about our ex-pat life in Asia, a couple anecdotes I didn't know about (because I was a kid then).
It was a poignant moment in Time.
There will be more to come about Matt and his remarkable career - I simply don't have the time to write right now; there is an important project and Matt knows what it is, because I told him.
And then we drove down to Gosport and took the ferry to the train station. When I take off from Heathrow tomorrow morning, I will have travelled by automobile, ship, train and aircraft, all within 24 hours. This is an personal achievement I have been trying to gain this for at least the past thirty-four years.
STORMBRINGER SENDS
SPOTTED DICK
On the trains today going through the English countryside. These are some of the names of the places I am traveling thru:
Wanking
Shaftsbury
East Dorking
Slopsbury
Screwing
St. Screamsbury
Blowing
Wadsworth
I had lunch in a pub called The Cock and Pussy - the pub sign was a painting of a rooster fighting a cat, I kid you not. The guy at the next table over said to the waittress, "I'm having Spotted Dick. I know I'll regret it tomorrow, but I've earned it."
Whatever floats your boat, Mister. I don't have Spotted Dick, I don't ever want to have it, and I REALLY don't wanna know whatever it was you did to EARN Spotted Dick. I mean, REALLY people - "Too Much Information!"
. . . OK too much time on my hands . . . here's some street names in various towns found throughout England:
Find Bush Lane
Sandy Balls
Hornyold Rd
Fingringhoe
Shitterton
Hole of Horcum
Fanny Hands Lane
Cockshoot Close
Crotch Crescent
Cumming Court
Cocknmouth Close
Rimswell
Spanker Lane
Beaver Close
Dick Court
Lickfold Close
My favorite is Beaver Close . . . Today's Bird HERE- STORMBRINGER SENDS
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