Cold Fury

Harshing your mellow since 9/01

Guts, glory

God damn, but I love this picture:

Good trigger discipline even after all these years. That’s Jim “Pee Wee” Martin, who, at 93, parachuted into Normandy on Thursday. Again, that is. A sassy, brassy picture of a true American badass like this would undoubtedly give today’s Pajama-Boy pussies the creeping fantods; the cigarette would only be the beginning of their acute horror. He’d fit right in in a Rose Garden ceremony with Ike or Reagan, but of course pResident Pissypants much prefers the company of traitors, deserters, collaborators, and other such scum for his photo ops, feeling much more at home with like-minded reprobates as he does. Darleen says: “Good lord, what has America lost?” Everything we had, babe, and all of it was worth keeping. God bless ya, Pee Wee; we shan’t see your like again.


2 thoughts on “Guts, glory

  1. I’d pay quite a lot to watch that man stomp Pajama Boy into boot paste. While rocking that unfiltered Lucky.

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"America is at that awkward stage. It's too late to work within the system, but too early to shoot the bastards." – Claire Wolfe, 101 Things to Do 'Til the Revolution

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