Before the blog dies...

Google™ is a nasty company with a bad reputation. Now they are threatening to destroy this blog with another bit of online treachery. I had my personal photo archives cherry-picked by a Google-operated bit of business called Picasa™, an enterprise owned and operated by Google™. I dumped the Picasa™ program as fast as I could hit the keys, but it wasn’t fast enough. A great many of my photos disappeared into the ether. So much for digital technology. I never forgave them for that offense.

Now, today, I see something about Al Gore on the news. He is apparently making a good deal of money off Google™ with his bogus “global warming” scam. At the same time, I see some technological tidbit about the new, improved “Google Beta”. I had to go to war, with a number of e-mail address changes, just to rectify my Google™ address. I am not looking forward to trying to save this blog again. This may be the last of Uncle Possum.

Before this blog disappears into the ether-world of “Beta Google™”, I want to tell an amusing and ironic story.

A long time ago, I knew a Jewish man we’ll call “Doc”. He was “radical Jewish”, he belonged to the JDL [Jewish Defense League] and he was a true believer. Never forget. My father was a War II veteran; he told me the horror of Nordhausen, the concentration camp he liberated. I agree with the Jewish belief: never forget.

So, Doc is hanging out during the Jimmy Carter era. Jimmy’s my homeboy, but I can’t recall such a sorry specimen.

Doc lived in Maryland. He steps out one night for a couple of beers. He goes to some roadhouse; it was a place to get a couple of beers.

Jimmy Carter happened to be on TV that night, delivering the State of the Union address. Doc sees Jimmy on TV.

Doc turns around to the guy next to him at the bar, and begins making derogatory comments. “You know what? I’ve got a hunting rifle in the trunk of my car, and I’m going to go down to DC and get that SOB”.

Just one problem. Doc was talking to an FBI agent, who had also stopped in for a couple of beers.

The agent searched Doc’s car, and he really did have a rifle in the trunk. Things did not go well for Doc after that.

There is no moral to this tale. Maybe don’t threaten the president, or don’t talk trash to the FBI. I always thought Doc was the unluckiest man in the world. He caught a world of hurt off the beef, and I never for one minute believed he meant it.

I talk a lot of trash about presidential candidates. I’m seeing the Manchurian candidate, name of Osama Bamalama, trying to run this country. Yeah, I’d like to shoot him. We don’t do that in America unless we’re depraved rednecks. I remember Dr. King.

Osama Bamalama is one of the most dangerous men in America. He makes the Hildebeast look positively benign beside him. I can talk a lot of trash about presidential candidates. Obama is the most dangerous man since FDR. Elliot Spitzer is gone, but I’m scared spitless. I am so scared for America.