The fine young ladies from the Rutgers basketball team, who were scared for life when Don Imus called them nappy-headed-hos, have resorted to the only means available to them in an effort to seek retribution and filed a lawsuit. Damaged for life this young ladies, with only a couple of bachelor degrees among them, are doomed to fail in a world where white men can exploit women at will, for any purpose, be it humor, “relations”, house cleaning or to get a sammich fixed. For the first time in history a band of women has is risen up and striking back…

The annals of history will surely show the plight of these women in an epic made for Lifetime Television mini-series. Surely the series will depict the trials and tribulations, the broken marriages / life-partnerships, the lost jobs, the missed opportunities, these women suffered in the days, weeks and months following Mr. Imus’ horrendous statement. Yet, we can only hope Lifetime Television will donate a portion of the profits of their series too the ladies, as the man will undoubtedly keep them down again as Mr. Imus is sure to prevail.

Their lawsuit, coupled with the lawsuit against Michael Vick, has however, given me the courage I need to strike back against the ReichWing Spin Machine who is actively seeking my failure as soldier, husband and writer. Led by the Weakly Standard and Confederate YanKKKee, Ace of Spades, HotAir, Michelle Malkin and countless other ReichWing webloggers have sought to tarnish my good name, for no reason and in cold blood.

Now its time, I the little man, strike back. Fear not for me, as my fight will be valiant, I’ve faced their ilk before and I am not afraid. No doubt they will continue to nit-pick my every word and attempt to make me out as a liar and a fraud, when we all know I’m the only one publishing the troof, no matter how outrageous and unfounded their claims are.

Were it not for the courageous efforts of the gentlemen from Sadly, No! I fear all hope would have been lost by now. With their support, and the support of my fellow troofers in Confederate YanKKKee’s comment section, I’ve found the strength to soldier on.

Plus, I’m sure all the guys publishing bad things about me are raging homos, not that theres anything wrong with that, who’ve only switched to the ReichWing in an effort to make a quick buck. However their finances are going to be taking a direct hit shortly. As soon as I get my crayons back I’m drafting a lawsuit to the tune of 100 Trillion Dollars. I’m sure we’ll settle out of court, but with my portion of their sweet, sweet blog money I’ll be able to buy a small island off the coast of France, where men aren’t judged for their sexual preference, be it man, woman or beast.

VICTORY WILL BE MINE!!1111!1eleven!!!!

So I might have made a little bit of a mistake when I said the guys were running over dogs with Bradley Fighting Vehicles. Truth be known all I wanted to do was cover the sixes of my crew and commanding officers. Regretfully some conservative hate-monger named “Konfederate YanKKKee” (burn any crosses lately dood?) won’t let dead dogs lie. But I can explain everything, just keep reading with an open mind and open heart and ignore what the “expert supposedly said“…

I know I’d claimed it was the Driver doing the killing in the Bradley, we call them BFV’s, and it was because I couldn’t bring myself to finger all the guys in my Platoon. Well they’ve hung me out to dry so, payback is only fair.

In the first case, where the driver slowed drastically and then lurched forward. Well, it was cold, damned cold, the kind of cold you only get in a Desert during the middle of Winter. With temperatures plunging well below -50° at noon, we couldn’t stand another frozen day, much less the weeks of only having one or two hours of daylight. We’d just finished changing the oil on General Betrayus’ Hummer and we were trying to find a “rattle in the dash”, no doubt from where he’d thrown his change up there, again.

Then John got this idea that we’d hit up one of the strip clubs on the south-side of Baghdad. Normally I’d report his behavior, but there was an All German Girls Review that night and I have a weak spot for some Germainian chicks (and we all know they love me). Anyway, so against my complaints and better judgment we go to the club. We’re in there and all the girls flock over to me, seriously I couldn’t beat them off with a stick, and this big Arab gets pissed. He starts screaming something about jihad, really the only words I could make out were bomb vest, so we made tracks like a cat with his ass on fire.

John slammed his head on the door post sliding through the window and knocked himself out. So I had to pull him over to the passenger seat and fired it up. We were making tracks down this dirt road and the Hummer kind of started drifting. Next thing I know John’s hollering about a dog in the road, so I snatch the wheel to the right, but it was too late, we’d killed it. Helluva a way to start the day, let me tell you.

After we got back to the base we headed out on patrol, a whole convoy of BFV’s, at least a hundred of them. Things were uneventful, but on the way back we could tell something wasn’t right. All the streets were empty and the locals were ducking back behind the windows. By the time we realized what was up it was too late, we’d been setup. General Betrayus’ had mapped the route out and funneled down a one way street with no way out, but through an apartment building. John, the guy with a goose-egg on his noggin’, gunned the BFV and knocked through the first wall no problem, then the second, as we came out the Captain, Cappy we call him, saw something move. He reached over and started firing rounds from the machine gun, before he realized it was a dog. Too late, he’d placed 100 rounds perfectly.

As I said earlier, I only heard about the third one, so make of that what you will.

The ReichWing weblogger swarm raises many serious questions though. Such as: Why the hell is everybody worried about me, aren’t there cold blooded killers out there to catch? Where’s the Honorable Jack Murtha when you need him most? Did they finally catch up to Larry and hang him from the bridge Bush caused to collapse? (He’s been silent for a full week.)

I guess you’ve probably heard the “news”. If you haven’t The Weakly Standard is running a piece titled Beauchamp Recants. As expected the typical ‘nutters have jumped on the bandwagon and are hailing a claim from an unverified anonymous source as a victory. Just to name a few, Michelle Malkin, Jeff Goldstein, Dan Riehl, Jim Treacher and Hotair are even more giddy than normal that they’ve crushed me, and for what, telling the truth…

Go ahead and live it up, I’ve told the truth, you just don’t know which version is accurate and won’t until I’m long gone from the oppression of General Betrayus and his ilk then I’ll verify it. Let me clue you in on something though, you’d be surprised how fast someone will plead ignorance and deny what they’ve seen when your under “enhanced interrogation techniques”.

With that said, the worst is yet to come. Pretraumatic Stress Disorder destroyed my since of humanity and its only gotten worser since I’ve been in Iraq. You just don’t know the unspeakable horrors that a mechanic sees. I’ve had to use a razor blade to scrap the bugs off of windshields for hours on end, just to have them dirties up again when the guys go out on patrol. I’ve tried leaving encouraging letters to the guys, but they’re not thankful at all and have quit telling me about the raids I know they’re going on. I made one simple request, a pinky or a toe from a dead terrorist, but will they bring one back for me? NOOOOO. It’s like they don’t trust me anymore or something.

At least Rick Moron understands the significance of what is at stake. Rick knows that in the “bigger picture” any soldier who wants to explain what they’ve seen has been silenced. Rick understands that the ReichWingNutters have abandoned the troops they claim to support and aligned themselves with Stalin, Hitler and Kim Jong Il. Rick knows that every time another pitiful excuse for a blogger tries to explain to their reader(s) that “Shock Troops” is a farce another battle in Iraq is lost. Rick sees the bigger picture, Rick learned a long time ago that the truth will set you free and that Knowledge is Half the Battle.

Fear not for me my liege, for I shall emerge triumphant.
They couldn’t pin me with criminal charges and a corner office awaits me when I get back home.

It seems I can’t even bend over at the hip anymore, to tie my shoes, without someone being all over my six. Really guys, that post about me finding true love in the barracks was just a joke. A bad, poorly planned, locker room joke.

So back off, I’m not digging the peen, plus, I’ve got a bus load of German chicks that I’ve been playing slap and tickle with for months now. Never mind what you’ve heard Mr. Roper say, he’s just bitter about Three’s Company being canceled…

Take for example this little nymph:

She’s so hot that the guys from Misunderestimated Germans stoled her image from me and posted it on their site. In their banner no less. Now they’re trying to claim she’s “off the market“, nice try guys. We know where who her true love is. If she is indeed engaged, she probably just picked some dumb kraut out of the crowd on the rebound.

As you know, a pure geniuss like myself can’t be contained by one woman. January, Oktoberfest in Germany, was a great month in the ladies department. It seems like ethnically pure girls are everywhere to be had in Germany. Just buy them a couple of pints and the next thing you know they’re giving you private yodeling instructions.

Then there’s these young lasses. They just couldn’t get enough of the Sir Real Scott Thomas…

It seems like they just kept falling out of the trees and into my bunk. I just can’t wait to get back to Germany, where the beers are cold and the chicks are wanton and willing.

Apparently a confession isn’t good enough for some people. They’re expecting a pound of flesh or something, all from behind their veils of anonymity on the internets. Well I got news for them, they might have brought down Dan Rather, but they won’t catch me… I guess some people just can’t handle having their delicate sensitives upset.

I guess I shouldn’t be surprised when bloggers get upset about a private trying to provide the world with his view of the war. They just can’t leave their parents’ basements long enough to see what’s happening. It’s not like Brian from Hotair and Michelle Malkin ever spent a night in Iraq. I’m almost certain that Michael Yon does his dispatches from the comfort of a Marriott Hotel in West Palm Beach Florida. Don’t even get me started on the other “citizen journalists” who take trips to the spa and call it a tour in Iraq. Their reports are just as big a hoax as the Moon Landing.

There are some out there who won’t be happy until they get their pound of flesh. I guess they want to see me punished for telling the truth and letting the world know what I’ve seen. Well it ain’t going to happen, I’ve outsmarted six-star-generals, so a handful of blogger with Cheetos on their breath isn’t going to phase me one bit.

By the way, don’t forget the gifts, I’ll try to get my gimpwear.com (there’s a diamond studded ball-gag I’ve had my eye on for a while) registry filled out soon.

Its a shame the common folk don’t realize when we’re in the Sandbox we’re being handed “vitamins” on a daily basis, but they aren’t the regular Flintstones, they’re being used to get us all amped up to go on killing sprees and wipe out entire villages of Sand-wops…

We crept through the oil fields on a raid the other night, probably into neighboring Saudi Arabia, and burned an entire village to the ground. Their sand huts were set ablaze and we used sling-shots with special darts, made from the spit of the man-bear-pig, to finish off the survivors. The poor bastards never stood a chance.

As we were air lifted out the gunner on the ‘chopper was just firing indiscriminately at a bunch of brown-people tending their sand-patties. I asked him how he could tell the enemy and he just laughs maniacally, I guess the vitamin hadn’t worn off yet, and starts screaming they’re all terrorists. “If they run they’re a terrorist, if they don’t run they’re a well trained terrorist.” He had written “Sand-wops Iced Since ‘03? beside the door and was actually keeping score. The pilot said they’ve had to re-skin the inside of the ‘chopper twice when he ran out of places to mark kills, so they didn’t have a total count on hand, but their last estimate was over six-hundred-thousand.

Its those “vitamins” that get our blood lust up and we just can’t help but killing. Hell our CO, Major Payne, is all the time saying that “killin’ is his business and business is good“. I’m not sure what’s become of us, but it isn’t natural and damned sure isn’t humane.