Monday, August 31, 2009
Shane - After being denied psychiatric medication by ValueOptions, Shane turned to illegal drugs financed by burglaries. For stealing a few hundred dollars worth of goods, he was sentenced by Judge Ron Reinstein to eleven years. Shane is the author of the blog Persevering Prison Pages.
Shane responds to the comments on his $115,000 court victory over the Arizona Department of Corrections.
Thank you Leigh and Chris Phoenix for your encouragement and support. I appreciate your comments. All those who recognize prisoners are human beings and must be treated as such under the law are wise.
In response to Sweet Kitty’s comments, I can only say that it’s a pity you hold these feelings/ideals. What message are you teaching children? Condemnation, unforgivingness, distrust, justice for some not for others…
I commend you on your contributions to teaching kids and cancer research. If nothing more, I hope that by reading Shaun’s and my own blog, you’ll learn something you can share with a kid. Try reading some of my past entries on drugs and my childhood.
Maybe one day, when Shaun or myself are speaking to your kids at their school auditorium, you’ll shake our hand on an even playing field. Don’t be surprised if they listen to me. I’ve been in prisons, jails, done the drugs, committed crimes, survived a rotten childhood…I speak from experience and knowledge.
In closing: I committed a crime and broke the law. I’m paying for this by being incarcerated for 11¼ years. Everybody who breaks the law should pay their dues – just like I am. Nobody is above the law. Call it hypocrisy or whatever helps you sleep, but it’s the truth.
Our friends inside appreciate your comments.
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Shaun P. Attwood
Sunday, August 30, 2009
The Captain is Victorious
My economist mind went to work and after pricing fillets of fish at the local supermarket, I figured I would need to catch 7.5 sizeable fish to fillet them and earn back the savings to pay for my fishing license.
Of course I haven't caught a damn fish worth filleting, but the old adage is true;
"Unlucky in fishing, lucky in Fairburn Agate hunting."
Fairburn agates, as they call them, are South Dakota's state rock. Seemingly "nothing exciting" to the untrained eye, their intricate patterns is what makes them quite valuable in the gem world. I wouldn't have even considered them gems, but given their prices range from anywhere from $20 for El Crapo ones to $40,000 for the more insanely rare ones, they are a more profitable venture than trying to pan for gold.
In any case, your Captain has been victorious in his hunt for Fairburn Agates. Found three of them today!
Now, I know, I know. All the cappy cap girls MUST learn to control themselves, because not only is your dear Captain an accomplished fossil hunter, tornado chaser, economist, video game player AND ballroom, dancer, he is now a successful FAIRBURN AGATE HUNTER.
You may swoon now.
Sadly only 48 more hours of vacation, and then a SLOW, ENJOYABLE trip back to the communist, Al Franken, Crocus Pot Smoking Hippie Hill, POS land known as Minnesota.
Yea, more taxes and spoiled brat suburbanite children who go to Carleton. Yea.
This One is For the Major
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Proposal Economics
diamond rings are a freaking waste;
http://www.leasticoulddo.com/comic/20090828
And if girl tells you otherwise, then ask her how many starving children in Africa that $5,000 ring would feed for how many years.
Yeah, that's what I thought.
Don't get me started on the waste that occurs in weddings.
From a Reader
Sorry, somethings wrong with the text, my bad. Tried working at it and it still isn't coming through. I will try to post it later after vacation.
Cpt.
Friday, August 28, 2009
Oh, Isn't That Cute
OH, THAT'S RIGHT, DUMBASS, MEDICARE IS BROKE BECAUSE THE GOVERNMENT MISMANAGED IT SO HORRIBLY! Amazing how he never managed to discuss how the "Medicare" system is busted.
Wow, cartoons are cute! I think I'll convince another 20 million idiotic 20 somethings to think just like my skinny, goatee wearing-never-getting-any-pansy-ass while we vote for our next president on American Idol.
Rocky has just under a year left to serve at Safford, Arizona. He was sentenced for two separate cases: burglary and aggravated assault.
Last September we were out on a 4 yard for our 2 hours rec. The yard had been live for days because there was a lot of black [heroin] and almost everyone had been high for three days or so. 4 yards are dangerous anyway because they house the next highest classification inmates below 5. But it seemed to be really on edge that day.
Pokey, Taz and I were just sitting around shooting the shit. We were commenting on the thickness of the air on the yard. The dope debts were heavy at the time, which caused a lot of tension between the races.
Taz spotted a Native American walking into the gym with the straight end of a shovel sticking out by his boot and the handle rising up the pants’ leg. We knew it was about to get real live. We were working our way to the entrance of the gym, about 10 foot from the door, when three guys came out, all natives. They walked by us like they were on their way out of a burning building.
Taz pushed the door open and stepped into the gym as the door closed behind him. We stayed outside the door to keep point.
No sooner did the door close behind him, I heard “Motherfucker! Motherfucker!” at the top of the lungs.
I pushed the door open to see Taz flipping and flopping, sliding around, trying to get to his feet in the biggest pool of blood I have ever seen to date. Next to him was the headless body of a Mexican in the middle of the pool of blood with his head about 10 feet away, eyes open, mouth open, and staring straight at me with an expression on his face of terror.
The three Native Americans had held this guy down and chopped off his head with the shovel. You could see the hack marks on the chest and what was left of the neck.
I turned to help Taz get up, and got pulled down into the bloody mess.
Just then a C.O. busted through the door, and said, “Spread-fuckin’-eagle on the floor now!”
I couldn’t have ran if I wanted to. It was like being in baby oil on hard wood.
They cuffed us up, and took us to SMU1 where we sat under investigation for murder for 7 months. They saw the whole thing on camera, but tried for 7 months to tie us into it. We were finally cleared.
Now if a guy gets stabbed to death in front of me in the chow line, I know to just step over the body and go eat real fast because there will be lockdown coming for sure. Now I don’t see anything, hear anything, or say anything. These are words to live by in prison.
Click here for Rocky’s previous blog.
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Shaun P. Attwood
How to Argue Against Socialism and Defend Capitalism is Now Available
After some editing and some serious crash coursing in MS Movie Maker my speech, "How to Argue Against Socialism and Defend Capitalism" is now available online.
This speech is quite simply A MUST for all people who believe in free markets, capitalism, freedom and true progress. It is unique (in my humble opinion) in that it is the only one of its kind where it comprehensively covers not just the logical and philosophical arguments for capitalism, but also provides your everyday person with the empirical data that supports capitalism. It also delves into the leftist mind with insights that help you understand where the left is coming from and how to engage them when debating with them.
Understand that this is the entire speech in its original format. It was taped professionally and will be aired on TV in the future, but this "professional version" will be an abbreviated version of it. I wanted to make sure the ENTIRE 2 hour 10 minute version was available in that there are many different aspects to this debate that need addressing and I wanted to cover them all.
It is a LONG seminar, but understand that in those short 2 hours and 10 minutes, you will be armed with an immense amount of data, as well as a strategic understanding of the psychology of the left that you will be immeasurably more capable of arguing for free markets, low taxes, freedom and liberty. More importantly I review different economic resources you can go to where by you can research and investigate on your own.
To download the video click here and do the "save as" thing (many thanks to FRANK! for hosting it!)
It is 237 MB so it may take a bit to download, but as always with some of my lengthier works, this will grant you the time to pour yourself a martini, light up a cigar and get comfy in your recliner.
Also, it would mean the world to me if you could mention this not only to your friends, but to Glenn Beck or Rush Limbaugh or somebody out there that has a little more pull than me. I ask this not for the attention, but as you will see the data and concepts in this speech really are that good, and the more people we can get to see this speech, the better armed we will be in fighting the forces of socialism in this country.
Many thanks!
El Cap-i-tan
PS-People have been asking if I can burn a copy to disk and mail if they pay a couple bucks it as they are having troubles downloading. Yes, please e-mail me at CAPTcapitalism@yahoo.com, I don't know what postage costs, but I'll charge $10 or so for the postage and my hassle.
PPS-A reader was kind enough to convert it to You Tube and here is the link if you prefer it that way.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Venture Bank
Of course I never received a job offer, because, well, if we were to put it simply;
I HAVE MY HEAD OUT OF MY ASS.
However, as you are no doubt fully aware, banks, bankers and the financial industry in general, prefer you to have your head up your ass, or at least be willing to french-kiss some ass in order to be employed, and that leads us to our recurring lesson about the American financial system;
It is more important that you kiss ass than kick ass.
It is more important to bend over than make profit.
It is more important to ignore reality and play ball as we all enjoy a free bailout on the American taxpayer's back as we pay ourselves enough money to buy ourselves houses and boats on Lake Minnetonka even though we don't deserve it and pose as "real" business men just like Tom Petters and Denny Hecker.
Now, I won't go into details but I interviewed twice AND offered them my Independent Analytics services and they wanted nothing to do with it. Of course, for a mere 10% of their losses THIS ONE QUARTER, I would have prevented it.
But (and pay attention to all of you thinking about entering finance/economics as a career, because it will change your minds to major in something like computer programming or engineering where your bosses have to adhere to the laws of PHYSICS and not the laws of some middle aged dumbass with too much of daddy's money in lalaland) you see it is more important to the powers that be in the finance world that you be a conforming automoton than any real leader with any real brains and any real talent with any real hope of delivering any real increases in real profitability.
I have been thinking about this on my motorcycle rides throughout the Black Hills, and it almost seems to me that the people who are currently in the positions of power in the US coroprate world almost value "conformance" and "slavery" and "power" over "profits" or "efficiency." It's enough that I am seriously considering contacting a labor economist I know to see if there is a way to measure how much value a middle aged dumbass places on conformance versus performance. Perhaps that could be a labor economist's thesis
"Conformance vs. Performance."
In any case and in all seriousness, I'm just gloating in the losses the dumbasses at "Venture" *ooooooh, isn't that exciting! "Venture" - yeah, like "ventures into bankruptcy"* "Bank" is suffering right now.
Of course, it all could have been avoided, if they had just...
aw, fuck it, never mind. I should have been born in the 20's.
Last Days of Vacation
I am entering the last few days of my vacation and will thusly be spending it fishing, hiking and slowly making my way back to Minneapolis.
Posts will be light, but I will schedule a couple recession medicine cartoons here and there.
In the meantime take the full 2 hours to watch the video below, hopefully that will be enough economic data to last you a while.
Cpt.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Dubbed the Occult Killer by the media, Brandon is serving 6 to 12 years in the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania Department of Corrections. His crime: he killed his best friend in a drunk-driving accident. When police investigators discovered Gothic paraphernalia in his bedroom, they naturally concluded Brandon had committed a sacrificial murder for the benefit of Satan.
Took a little adventure for myself yesterday. I’d been dealing with this rash on my hands for a little while that looks like hives or nano-bee stings or something. It never progressed from the back of my hands, so I tried to wait it out. Though it never got worse, it persisted even over the weekend, which began to spook me, so I finally talked to my boss in the prison laundry. To keep inconvenience to a minimum, I asked to go when we were on break after 1600 count. How long could it take, right? I went up at 1630 when count cleared, blasting past the chow halls, foregoing dinner. I wanted it addressed, ASAP.
I go to the waiting room adjacent to the dispensary (where the pills are given out, as the name may suggest) and check my pass with the cop on duty. And I wait. And wait. Insulin Line is called. I know those guys take priority, so I settle in further for a longer haul. And I wait. It takes so long, the cop tells me I should go eat before they stop running dinner, which happens around 6pm.
Upon returning from my hamburger, I’m called in. A nurse gets my info, looks me over, and takes my vitals. Before I know it, I’m sitting with my arms outstretched, a cuff on my right bicep, thermometer in my mouth, and a pulse clamp on my right index finger, cables all running into a single machine. Tests complete, she removes the apparatus and we discuss the possibilities of my ailment’s origin.
Her conclusion is constant exposure to something in the workplace, be it protective gear or chemicals and detergents, has garnered a spontaneous allergic reaction. I explain I’m not the allergic type and provide the anecdote that I’ve lived around and worked in a dental lab all my life, contacting all sorts of dangerous chemicals from irritants to carcinogens, AND all manner of gloves. This being my 1st run-in with medical, I’m trying to make the best of impressions. My demeanor is calm and mild, my manner, polite, i.e. nowhere near argumentative. After her services are rendered, I thank her for her time and she asks me to wait for the doctor outside, for only he can prognose and prescribe.
In the interim, a group of about a dozen have gathered for the optometrist, who isn’t here yet. Treatment Line guys come and go. 1900 Pill Line comes and goes. I see a few co-workers who, through the glass, contort their faces and raise their arms as if to say, “What the hell are YOU doing in there?” I convey my exasperation with the appropriate exaggerated head-shaking and shoulder-shrugging that can only mean “I don’t even know anymore. I give up.”
The optometrist somehow turns up, alive, and takes guys one by one for 15-min-long check-ups. Nearly everyone is gone by the time I see the doctor after EIGHT o’clock. Mind you, I still have to check back in to work to tie up loose ends, go back to the block to cross my name off the CI out-count list so 2100 count is right, and get a shower.
Finally seeing the doctor, rejuvenates my appreciative, easy-going side. He was an Indian guy, with only the thickest of accents. He looks over the nurse’s paperwork, gives me a secondary check-up, and provides his assessment.
DR: Okay, what you will do is apply cold compress, no ice, just cold water, and then some hy-dro-cor-ti-sone cream. (turns to the nurse) Do we have hydrocortisone?
NURSE: Yes, we do. (she hands me about 10 HC condiment packets)
DR: Okay, cold compress and hydrocortisone cream, twice a day. Now, I’ll give you a script for Benadryl…
NURSE: You’ll have to come to Pill Line for that, morning, noon, and night.
DR: …50 mg, forty times a day for three days…(I knew instantly is was four, but it sounded like forty).
NURSE: We can only give it three times a day.
DR: …3 times a day for three days, okay…
The whole time this is going on, I’m imagining him prescribing me pilgrimages to the Ganges, to bathe in it three times a day for three days, or plug my nose with cotton soaked in the urine of a pregnant cow. If I wasn’t wholly ignorant of the culture, I could more accurately and descriptively make jokes at its expense.
“You will journey to the ashram, and feed the holy stale bread to the sacred rats who divinely infest that hallowed place, then your hands shall be cured of their bumpiness.”
So, in the end, I got my creams, my pill pass for Benadryl super doses, two days off work, then went about my business. They gave me one for the road, said it might make me drowsy. There weren’t kidding. Couple hours later, I wasn’t any good to anybody, slurring my words and nodding out.
The whole deal took nearly four hours, too long really. It’s their policy to cover work-related injury, however slight, but they fight you sometimes. Plus I have to hash out my pay. With a medical lay-in as I’m on, you’re compensated for hours missed at the normal rate, minus the bonus. That’s great, I don’t expect a bonus for time I didn’t put in. What they in turn will claim is because I missed more than 10% of the work month, I’ll only receive a half bonus for the hours I did work. Sneaky, sneaky. I have no control over a medical lay-in, I can’t be punished for it, sigh…
Click here to read Occult Killer’s previous blog.
Click here to read more from the Occult Killer at Prison Mom by Sue O.
Our friends inside appreciate your comments.
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Shaun P. Attwood
The Capitalism - Socialism Speech
I've finally been able to put together the video of my speech "How to Argue Against Socialism and Defend Capitalism"
Only problem is that I cannot find a video sharing service to upload it to that allows for the length and file size of the video. It is 237 MB and 2 hours 10 minutes long.
DOES ANYBODY KNOW ANY VIDEO SHARING SERVICE THAT WOULD ALLOW ME TO UPLOAD THIS???
Otherwise I will have to just burn it to DVD and mail it out (unfortunately I would have to charge for it to pay for postage and handling).
El Cap-i-tan
Sunday, August 23, 2009
This Is Your Captain Speaking
And to the CEO who said I was misrepresenting what was going on?
HA! You're a liar.
And that is how simple it is.
Polish Avenger - A software-engineering undergraduate sentenced to 25 years because his friend was shot dead during a burglary they were both committing. Author of the classic "Shit Slinger" series.
These all really exist – people put some strange things on themselves.
10) “F**** YOU” right across the knuckles of both hands. Hmm, what are you trying to say?
9) “F*** WHAT YOU THINK” in Old English letters across the neckline.
8) “F*** THE POLICE” on the back of the neck. This may affect one’s employment opportunities!
7) Barbed wire, gun towers, and chain-link fences. What, we don’t have enough to remember prison by already?
6) A person’s last name in huge letters across the back. Makes it hard to run from the police!
5) The telephone area code where you live. Did you forget?
4) The traditional hometown across the extremely tender strip above your belly button. The guy from Ohio gets off easy. God help the one from Massachusetts!
3) Spider webs – but not on the elbows like most cons. Nope, these were on the guy’s balls. Now that’s dedication!
2) An explicit scene from a porno book. Including a giant wiener. Seriously.
1) Anything misspelled. The very best was one guy with “F*** AUTHORITY” across his back in 2-inch lettering, and “F***” was spelled wrong! Ha ha ha!
Click here for Polish Avenger’s previous blog on prison ink.
Click here for some of the best stories at Jon's Jail Journal.
Our friends inside appreciate your comments.
Email comments and questions for Polish Avenger to writeinside@hotmail.com or post them below. To post a comment if you do not have a Google/Blogger account, just select anonymous for your identity.
Shaun Attwood
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Your Captain Has Failed
Turns out it was just a "brontothere" an ice age creature that had a skull of about 4 feet long.
All that being said, it was actually awesome to have Dr. Barb (the US Forest Service's official, tippy top super paleontologist) come out and dig out the ONE bone I did find and in all truthfulness, I'll be perfectly happy finding a brontothere.
Of course, Natasha found TWO dinosaurs, but that is another story.
Post post - Brontotheres were portrayed in Ice Age as the two, um...effeminate rhinos (have to skip to the video)
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Outstanding Journalism
But you have to hand it to Kate at SDA. She does this "SDA juxtaposes" theme, but this is one of the best ones where she exposes this fraud-nationalized-health-care-whore/professional protester.
You want to talk about people in the media who actually care about society, well it ain't freaking Dan Rather.
Frankie - A Mexican Mafia hit man and leader of prison "booty bandits" who has been proposing our gay marriage ever since he saw me rubbing antifungal ointment on the bedsores on my buttocks at the Madison Street jail. He was there on murder charges he subsequently beat.
7-28-09
What’s up, Englandman?
Yes, it’s been a while my friend, but you’re not forgotten and the love will always be here. (smile)
How could I forget a hairy ass like yours?
Anyway, I’ve been real busy, going to school from 8am to 10:30am, then I go to work from 12:30pm to 8:30pm 7 days a week in the kitchen, so I really haven’t had any time for anything.
It’s not that I lost faith, I had to do something to survive in this place. I honestly stopped messing around with drugs, so now I’m living off of $12 every 2 weeks as I’m making 20 cents an hour.
At times some of my friends come by and try to put some stuff in my hands, so that I can make money, and it’s very tempting, but I continue to refuse.
I should have been out already if it wasn’t for that dope I got busted with, and when my release date came that’s when I felt it the most.
As of now, I have 16 months left on the 4 ½ years and I’m not messing that up. Unless in the next month Sept! they change the 85% release to 65% then I’ll be home a lot sooner.
My friend, I ain’t written a letter in such a long time that my hand is already hurting. Damn! I need to get back into it.
As always, I’m still the greatest in chess. Many have tried to take the crown, but haven’t been able to.
Well, my friend, I’m going to close for now. Give my L&R to your mom and dad.
Much Love & Respect,
Frankie
Click here for Frankie’s previous letter.
Our friends inside appreciate your comments.
Email comments or questions for Frankie to writeinside@hotmail.com or post them below. To post a comment if you do not have a Google/Blogger account, just select anonymous for your identity.
Shaun P. Attwood
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
JR Hume's New Book
I have not read it yet and am still on vacation, but certainly feel free to post any reviews!
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
More Proof of Socialism
1. Detroit sucks
2. Places that we crazy with the housing also suck
3. The rest of the country is paying to create jobs for Washington bureaucrats
4. Portland is a place I never plan to visit nor invest in.
The chart is a bit large, but it's insightful.
Polish Avenger - A software-engineering undergraduate sentenced to 25 years because his friend was shot dead during a burglary they were both committing. Author of the classic "Shit Slinger" series.
15 little packets of salt
1 handkerchief
High pain tolerance
Willingness to act stupid
Hooch (optional, but strongly recommended)
Get plowed on hooch. Wet the handkerchief and pour salt on it liberally. Shave the tattooed area. Rub the handkerchief on it in a circular sanding motion. The salt acts as an abrasive, and quite literally eats the skin away as you rub. Oh yeah, that old expression about “rubbing salt in the wound,” there’s a reason why they say that. Yes, as you might expect, it hurts like a purple hairy bastard!
Continue sanding for about an hour until the area is an angry beet-red color. Rinse, bandage, and prepare for a solid month of excruciating and itchy recovery time. The recovery is even worse than the sanding. In my case, every little movement of my foot caused the edge of the scab to crack open again and leak out a thick custardy pus, and the itch was maddening at times.
The tattoo itself doesn’t come off during the sanding. Planing off the skin above it has the curious effect that as it heals, new tissue from below pushes the ink up and out.
On the happy day that the godforsaken scab finally comes off, you can hold it up to the light and see the tattoo suspended in it like a ghastly holocaust item. In fact, I kept part of mine in a photo album for years until the humidity made it all gooey and stinky.
In the end, it worked for me. She was gone. Unfortunately, I had gone a bit too deep, and had a blazing scar in her place. Whoops! The fellows assured me it would lighten up over time. It has – after about five years! Today, it’s still discoloured but nowhere as disgusting as it used to be.
Ever one for irony, I wound up getting another tattoo there anyway to cover up the scar! Ha ha! But no more girls’ names – this time it’s a memorial to my real true love: the caffeine molecule! Yes, on my ankle I have the molecular diagram and chemical formula for the greatest stuff ever invented. Now that’s ink I can live with!
Click here for Polish Avenger’s previous blog on prison ink.
Our friends inside appreciate your comments.
Email comments and questions for Polish Avenger to writeinside@hotmail.com or post them below. To post a comment if you do not have a Google/Blogger account, just select anonymous for your identity.
Shaun P. Attwood
Monday, August 17, 2009
Prius Vanity Plates
Was coming back from climbing Hat Mountain via Hill City and in front of me was a Prius with a Wellstone! bumper stick on it, as well as vanity plates that read "L S GAS." Now I had see this before where another Prius driver had "60 MPG" as his vanity plate (even though they don't get 60 MPG) and it got me thinking as I drove home.
"This is what they pride themselves off of?"
Understand vanity plates are basically a means by which you tell people something about yourself or your beliefs. Presumably it would be something of importance or pride (LUVWIFE) or, or perhaps you come up with very witty vanity plates such as (I have seen before) "TAXESUK."
But what these vanity plates tell me is that these people actually derive pride from getting faux-good gas mileage, and not only pride, but this is arguably the single greatest accomplishment or achievement in their lives;
Good gas mileage/low carbon emissions.
Now this provides a VERY interesting insight to the leftist mind, and I have alluded to this before; leftists (in a very general sense) want to avoid real work, yet are desperate to feel that they are accomplishing something with their lives. Ergo, instead of majoring in engineering, or becoming an accountant or a doctor and actually producing something or worth, they instead go into sociology, philosophy, the arts or whatever worthless "industries" the social sciences provide and instead of producing something of value to society, CHANGE THE DEFINITION OF WHAT IS VALUABLE TO SOCIETY.
Ergo the crusade over the cause.
Bono wants to help stave off poverty in Africa - no he doesn't, he wants the media attention.
Bob Geldorf wants to do the same - no he doesn't, he wants to be loved.
Jesse Jackson wants to eliminate racism - no he doesn't, he would be out of a job.
Hillary Clinton wants to help America - no she doesn't, she wants power.
And your run of the mill leftists that may not have celebrity status of those mentioned above like to join crusades to "end poverty" or "stop global warming."
No they don't. They want to wear an eco-boyscout badge to brag to other people about how good they are when they drive a Prius or drink "fair trade" coffee or buy organic groceries with a reusable bag or vote democrat/socialist.
These actions not only take no effort (or minimal) but they inevitably do nothing for society, nor produce anything of value. The only thing they do is make those that participate feel like they are doing something worthwhile and giving meaning to their lives. ie-it masks just how hollow their lives really are.
Now, admittedly this is a large brush I am stroking with, for as I've said before, I do know leftist computer programmers, I do know right wing government workers, but for those of you who have such little production and economic worth to your lives, that your primary thing you want to tell the world is that you get good gas mileage and emit less carbon than they average guy (until you have to dispose of those Prius batteries, but never mind, I forgot, it was never about the environment anyway), don't you think that before your time on this planet is up you might want to do something that really matters?
Seriously, think about it. When you die and they're reading off your ulogy, what do you want them to say?
"Skyler McFairtradecoffeedrinker was a great man. He only bought organic, fairtrade coffee from small, locally owned coffee stores that gave back to the community 30% of their pre-tax profits. He volunteered his time at the local minimalist-crapo-art museum where he lobbied the government for more taxpayer money for art nobody wanted. He wasn't a rich man, but he was rich in that his footprint was minimal on this planet. He lived in a small house with environmentally friendly insultation and spent only 79% of the US average on heating and air conditioning. He drove a moped and a Prius and emitted 56% less than the average American in carbon emissions."
You get one life on this planet and the greatest accomplishment you achieved is that you went green?
You know some people have families, some get great careers, some start businesses, some become adventurers, some go to the Sturgis rally, some start bars or restaurants, some fight in wars, some (ahem, cough cough) become economists during the day, moonlight as ballroom dance instructors during the nights, author books on their free time and become dashing Indiana Jones like characters on vacation as amateur paleontologists.
But you, on your death bed will look back at the previous 80 years and your greatest accomplishment?
You didn't eat meat. Wow, way to go.
In the meantime, I (and I'm sure all the junior, deputy, aspiring, official or otherwise economists out there) will be spending our lives achieving real things. So that when we die, we will have a smile on our faces in that we didn't waste that one, precious, finite life we had.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Ron Volesky
Saw it in the Rapid City Journal today that Ron Volesky, a potential democratic candidate for South Dakota governor wants to impose a corporate income tax.
So in short, since I'm vacation,
Volesky is a freaking moron. And the reason why is he doesn't understand basic economics.
South Dakota, as well as North Dakota and Wyoming, are states that not only have no income tax (corporate or personal), but states that have more or less escaped the recession.
Now the reason why is that corporations and people like to invest in these states since they get to keep more of their money. It also keeps money out of the hands of government, which is notorious for spending money poorly, resulting in less production per dollar. However what really pisses me off is that I was planning on moving myself and my company out here to South Dakota to escape the overly and oppressively taxed nanny state of Minnesota. But oh no, you have to ruin any fun and eliminate any state that might still somewhat adhere to the Declaration of Independence's "life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness"
Now, of course, guess what he wants to spend it it;
Of course, education. Arguably the most cost-ineffective government program where more money has never improved education.
And his rationalization for imposing an income tax;
"I just feel that"
Ron, quit being a god damned politician, become an adult and a statesman and KNOW before you ask for other people's money.
She's Pretty Hot for An Economist
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Savings Rate in America
Here's the chart;
Here's the article.
“Smiling John” Eastlack escaped from prison and was featured on America’s Most Wanted. He was sentenced to death for the murders he describes. When it was discovered that he has fetal alcohol syndrome, his sentence was reduced to life in prison without parole.
Part 6 left off with Smiling John on the run in Mexico.
I took a cab to Hermosillo Airport and charted a Cessna to fly me to San Carlos on the coast.
In the summer of 1982, I’d come here with my girlfriend’s family, and spent two weeks at the Club Med Resort.
Club Med – a fantasy Island for singles from 18 to 40 – was the perfect place to lay low. They cycled tourists on a two-week rotation every month, nine months of the year.
I arrived at San Carlos, and checked into a condo on the beach for 3 weeks, keeping to myself, swimming, surfing, snorkeling scuba diving and going into town to shop.
On 09-27-89, I woke up hearing someone in the condo downstairs rummaging around.
I grabbed my gun, tiptoed downstairs to the kitchen, and found bags of groceries on the counter and suitcases in the hallway.
Realizing it wasn't a burglar, but thinking the club had over-booked the condo, I stepped into the kitchen to see Monica my fiancée, the ex prison guard.
She’d found me after the feds had booked her for aiding and abetting my escape. She’d bonded out for $2,500, and then shook her FIST/FBI tail to get down here.
After America’s Most Wanted and Unsolved Mysteries ran my story, my family, parents, brother and sister all went to Colorado to avoid the media. My wife and son flew back to Chicago from Dallas to get away from reporters. Everyone that knew me had disowned me except Monica!
The first thing she said when she saw me was “Who's Patricia?”
Monica and I stayed in San Carlos for almost 1½ years. We went to Cabo San Lucas, Mexico City, Belize, Cancun, Mazatlán and Costa Rico, but never back to the States.
On April 16 199,1 I got a phone call at 4:00am for the first time in 19 months from Paul Hatcher from Fort Bliss in El Paso, TX.
I’d sent Paul a postcard in March asking for a job. At the time he was in Iraq for Operation Desert Shield/Desert Storm.
Paul told me he had a job for me for six figures in my own area of operations, meaning El Salvador and Columbia. To meet him at the Pelican Club in El Paso at 6:00pm.
One guy I could trust was Paul Hatcher. I kissed Monica goodbye. Not telling her because she would want to come.
I flew by charter from San Carlos to Juárez by Piper, then walked across the border over the bridge into El Paso. “St. Paul, Minnesota!” was my reply to the U.S. Customs guy who asked where I was from.
I caught a cab, then got out at the Pelican Club and walked towards the entrance. It was just after 6:00pm. The parking lot was crowded and people were standing around.
As I grabbed the door to enter the club I heard a bullhorn blare. “Freeze, Eastlack! On the ground!”
There were 27 undercover cops all around me. FBI, DEA, CID and a FIST SWAT team.
I was tackled, slammed and cuffed – hands, feet and waist.
“John Eastlack, you’re under arrest!” said the head FBI special agent in charge of the fugitive internal search team.
Sitting in the back of the Lear jet flying back to Tucson with 8 FBI guys, I realized just how damned tired I was...
Epilogue
Pima County Jail,
Tucson, AZ 1991
By the summer, the jury had found me guilty on all charges and the judge gave me two death sentences, one life and 365 years.
In 1994, the State Supreme Court overturned my conviction due to my judge being charged with gambling and the lead homicide detective blowing his head off with a shotgun.
By 1997, I was given a 25 to life after it was discovered I was the first and only person in the history of the United States to get his case over turned for having FAE-FAS (Fetal Alcohol Syndrome) as mitigation.
My case was soon featured on a Discovery and TLC channel documentary called The Sins of Science.
But the Arizona prison system was not done with me yet. In the spring of 1999, a corrupt major set me up to get killed by 3 members of the Aryan Brotherhood.
While in shackles and handcuffs, I was stabbed 21 times with two nine-inch shanks.
Once again, I almost died.
Since then, the years have gone by. I got my health back, work, go to school, and keep in touch with my family.
After all these years, I've never heard from Monica, Patricia, Paul and yet for the postcard, Hilda.
Life goes on.
Click here for a news story on Smiling John.
Click here for Part 6.
If you wish to write to Smiling John please email me at writeinside@hotmail.com
Email comments and questions for Smiling John to writeinside@hotmail.com or post them below. To post a comment if you do not have a Google/Blogger account, just select anonymous for your identity.
Shaun P. Attwood
Friday, August 14, 2009
Reason #249 Why Global Warming is a Hoax
Big Sugar
President Obama better launch a congressional investigation into the price of sugar! Why those big sugar companies with their obscene profits are conspiring to increase the price of sugar, making us all suffer!
You know what we should do!? We should "boycott sugar for a day!" That way...uh...um...we'll show those big sugar companies whose...uh...boss for a..umm...day and that way, they'll just..uhh...wait for us to buy more the very next day.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Recession Penguins
"Kowolski, status report!"
"What's the trouble private?"
You have to appreciate the Skipper.
You may also be interested in;
Robot Chicken
Venture Brothers
Organized Protesters
I got this e-mail from the Obama campaign (I signed up for their e-mails back when Obama was campaigning against Hillary) and it is just again, more proof that the people who protest at these town hall meetings are infinitely more legitimate than the professional protesters sent out by the left;
Note a couple things;
1. I never have received ANY e-mail from ANY conservative/capitalist entity to go and contact my representative/senator EXCEPT from the REPUBLICAN PARTY ITSELF.
2. I especially NEVER received anything from President Bush's administration.
3. Do not tell me that some how these leftists organization are "noble" or "honorable" or "legit" protesters while the town hall protesters are not.
“Smiling John” Eastlack escaped from prison and was featured on America’s Most Wanted. He was sentenced to death for the murders he describes. When it was discovered that he has fetal alcohol syndrome, his sentence was reduced to life in prison without parole.
Part 5 left off with Smiling John on the run in Texas, finding out he is about to be featured on America’s Most Wanted.
On 09-10-89 Sunday night at 6:00pm, I got a call from Paul at Fort Bliss. He told me my story was going to be featured nationwide at 7:00pm local time on America’s Most Wanted, and that I’d made number 7 on the FBI’s 10 most wanted list. I was wanted for murders in two states. Sources had spotted me everywhere from Hawaii to Miami.
At that second, Patty showed up with Lucy and Lucy’s boyfriend, Mario. We were all going to see Pet Cemetery, the new Stephen King movie.
I played it cool, keeping track of the time, planning my next move. For the past 9 days I’d been fooling myself thinking I could live the dream again.
After the movie, Patty took Lucy home, and Mario and I went to meet Hilda – a University of Texas at El Paso sorority girl and cheerleader – at T.G.I. Friday's for drinks, then to a pool hall. Eventually Mario crashed out and Hilda had her way with me in the truck, on the truck and the truck bed.
After we dropped Mario off at 4:00am, I asked Hilda if she could take me into Mexico and even down to Hermosillo.
Hilda was wild. She had an evil streak and loved living on the edge. I’d only known her for 6 hours, yet she detected I was on the run and wanted to run with me.
On 09-11-89 at approximately 08:00 hours, Hilda and I crossed back into Mexico after stopping at the Embassy Suites to get my tote and kit bag, and her UTEP sorority house.
At 2:00pm, we reached the city of Hermosillo and checked into the Azteca Hotel for 2 days.
Hilda called Mario and found out that the FBI and FIST (Fugitive International Swat Team) had raided the Embassy Suites, Patty’s house, Bonny’s house and Mario’s house all at once on 09-11-89 at 10:45am, El Paso local time.
Everyone now knew who John Eastlack was, and America’s Most Wanted had really played up the murders by making them look like assassinations because the first two victims were Lester and Kathryn Sherrill – white, Mormon, millionaires, including a superior court judge from Pima Country in Tucson, Arizona.
I had no idea, not that it would have mattered one way or another.
Now that she knew it would make her an accessory after the fact, I convinced Hilda not to toss her life away.
Hilda wanted to know who I really was and why I was in prison, so I told her. An army brat, grew up in California, Minnesota and Arizona. My mother was a doctor and father an army colonel. Grew up playing soccer and swimming, joined the army out of high school. Got out and went to prison for fraud in 1987 and escaped 2 weeks ago. She knew the rest.
She started crying, took off her Virgin Mary necklace, put it around my neck, kissed me on the lips and wished me good luck and safety, then walked out the door.
I never heard from Hilda again except for a postcard when I got off death row in 1997.
As soon as Hilda walked out the door I packed, and went out the back window 5 minutes later.
I trusted Hilda but did not want her coming back. Unlike Patty, Hilda had everything, she was just searching for something else.
I knew I couldn't take care of myself to follow a simple plan. In high school, sports, the military, prison, I had a structured environment, so I did well, excelled even. But my marriage, and relationships were all disasters. On leave I would mess up, getting involved in scams, robberies, cons or even murders. So I was far from having my shit together. I just acted like it.
I took a cab to Hermosillo Airport and charted a Cessna to fly me to San Carlos on the coast.
Click here for Part 5.
Our friends inside appreciate your comments.Email comments and questions for Smiling John to writeinside@hotmail.com or post them below. To post a comment if you do not have a Google/Blogger account, just select anonymous for your identity.
Shaun P. Attwood
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Town Hall Protesters
First off you must understand the basic paradox between leftists and conservatives as it pertains to protesting. Understand that it is the core nature of "leftism" or "socialism" to get government funds to finance whatever programs are desired. That IS the bona fide definition of "socialism;" government financing. Ergo it is part of the genetic code, its core operation to get money from the taxpayers by having the government take it via taxation. Therefore it's just a daily duty of entities like ACORN, the SEIU, the teacher's unions, etc. to lobby the government for more financing.
However, with conservatives it is not the same. Conservatives, by and large, go and actually PRODUCE something of value and in turn sell it to people who willingly part with their money in the private sector.
The doctor does surgery and gets paid willingly by the person who needs his appendix removed.
The burger flipper makes a Big Mac and is willingly paid by the person who loves that awesomely bad, yet heavenly tasting food.
The mechanic fixes your car, and you willingly pay him to replace your transmission.
Now this is a broad brush I am painting and it's not to say there isn't a doctor who is a leftist or a burger flipper who is a capitalist, but the larger point is that by its definition, it is the nature of the job of leftist to protest and lobby for more government money as there is no other way they would be employed.
This, however, presents a paradox to those of a more capitalist nature. Their jobs have really nothing to do with the government. They don't get their money from the taxpayer, they get it by producing something of value in this society and then selling it to the people who want it. Therefore, it is NOT part of their job to go and protest/lobby for more money. But what does that say if they DO come out and protest, and this is the point I'm trying to make.
Congressmen, senators and politicians of the democrat (and republican) stripe, listen to me, even though you won't.
I know you think that the "masses" want socialism as much as you do or your professional "constituents" do and you think these "town hall protesters" are just a bunch of loonies. But what you seem to fail to realize is that (and here's the math)
1 conservative/capitalist/republican/libertarian protester
equals about
25 liberal/leftist/socialist protesters
The reason why is simple;
We're too busy working and actually producing something of value to bother bitching and whining for more money unlike your leftists protesters who are too damn lazy to get real jobs and support themselves. We don't need the government. Matter of fact, the only thing we really want is for you to leave us alone so we can go and work and enjoy our lives. Therefore if we do come out and protest, you have MAJORLY effed up and better listen up.
Now I know most of the socialists in congress will not listen, but allow me to compare and contrast;
One of the protesters they've been interviewing is this 35 year old mom. Of all the different protesters, she said something that struck a cord with me and makes my point;
To go to the town hall meeting she and her husband had to do it on vacation and on their 10 year wedding anniversary.
Now if you compare this to these idiotic ACORN protesters, who are obviously not supporting themselves and living on daddy's dime (while not doubt claiming to be "independent" women)
You'll see that one is really an adult who is a contributing member to society, and the others are just effing morons who should never be allowed to vote, at MINIMUM not heeded or listened to when they come in and ask for free health care. The larger point is that the working mom HAD TO TAKE TIME OFF FROM WORK. In otherwords there is a silent majority who just plain don't have the time or the luxury to take off and protest, unlike their socialist counterparts who do.
Another reason why you should heed the 25/1 ratio is that conseravtives/capitalists/libertarians, etc. do not have PAID PROTESTERS.
I couldn't believe it when I first heard it, but upon visiting my girlfriend one time at her office, I saw a bunch of really old protesters protesting in the parking lot adjacent to her office building. I asked her "what are they protesting?"
She said, "Well the company that is in that building is a munitions manufacturer and they're protesting them for making ammunition."
"Why are they so old (they were 60+)?"
"They're paid to protest."
Only leftists could come up with something as dishonest as PAID PROTESTERS (though I will admit I can see some more obscure religious nut job outfits doing this, but the larger point being the left has a monopolgy on the "paid protesting" industry). The larger point being again, if one side of the political spectrum has to resort to PAYING protesters, it just dilutes the value of their protest. Remember you're not paid by the protester, you're paid by the vote.
And finally, why you may want to heed some of these people, with unemployment at 9.4%, people who were otherwise employed and producing, are now unemployed and pissed. And NOW they actually have the time to go and voice their demands whereas previously they couldn't. Worse for you still, they may even have the time to educate themselves about the economy, the housing crisis and how we got here and boy, are they going to get pissed when they find out not only did you BAIL OUT THE CRIMINALS, and AT YOUR CHILDRENS' expense, but now you're going to increase their taxes by another 10-15% GDP.
So look, here's the deal.
I know you've been constantly bombarded by protesters of the leftist stripe. Probably 90% of the protests, e-mails, calls, etc., are for pro-leftist causes. But you have to understand that the reason that is, is because that's how leftists make their money - government financing. It's also their job, to protest and lobby for more money. The remaining (I'd estimate) 70% of the population is out there WORKING FOR A LIVING AND DON'T HAVE TIME TO BEG FOR OTHER PEOPLE'S MONEY. And when it comes to the point that you've pushed and pushed, and taken more and more of their money (not to mentioned mortgaged their children's future) and you then ask for a nationalized health care system that only fringe leftists want, you've pushed them past the brink and they will come out and protest. You've effectively made it not worth working any more.
And then you insult them, the people who actually produce all the wealth in this nation, the people who carry the non-productive classes' weight in this world by calling them "nazi's" and "un-American?"
Hoo hoo!!!
I used to think the American people were so stupid and ignorant about government finances that Obama would win another term, but by you impoverishing them, indebting them and then INSULTING THEM, there might actually be hope they wake up and see what arrogant, elitist, spoiled brat, preppy, trust fund baby bastards you really are.
Again, that ratio is 25 to 1. Try not to forget it, if you can swallow it.
More Or Less Sums Up All Men
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Nationalized Health Care
It's very simple;
Whoever in congress votes for it will lose their seats.
Those who voted for the TARP bailout/stimulus AND votes for nationalized health care will probably get lynched in the streets.
And I frankly would smile if that happened.
What Precisely Is Debt
Debt for most of our everyday use is used to purchase large ticket items like houses or cars that we do not have the great sum of cash for, but can instead borrow the money and pay it back over time with interest.
Another form of "debt" that is in the daily use of the average person is short term debt, such as credit cards. This form of debt is not that we don't have the money now, it's just that it's easier to carry a credit or debit card as opposed to cash. This "tab" is then paid up monthly (unless of course you're like 70% of the American public and just decide to let it build up into a $50,000 credit card balance).
However, "debt" is also measured from a macro-economic perspective where we add up all the debts of corporations, people, and governments. The relevancy of this "total debt" figure is not its use as in mortgage debt or credit card debt, but rather a testament to the laziness of a nation.
Let me say that again;
"The total debt of a nation, including personal, corporate and governmental debt, is a testament or measure of the laziness of a nation."
The reason why is this,
Debt is the difference between what the people of a nation consume versus what they produce.
You see, we (or any other nation) produce a certain amount of production every year. We call this GDP. We produce GDP because that is what we not only like to consume, but trade with one another. So I go and teach dance classes and sell books, so that I might raise the money to buy food and pay for martini's.
However, if I'm a spoiled suburbanite princess, or perhaps a socialist president who wants to blow $3 trillion on social programs, we like to consume MORE than what we produce.
This results in a difference or "deficit" between what we produce and what we consume.
We finance this deficit by borrow money year after year after year....^nth power after year after year.
Ultimately these deficits accumulate into "debt"
So in short, our desire to be greedy and consume more than we produce, turns into the physical manifestation of debt. ie-Debt is the real life manifestation of human laziness.
Now, to measure how lazy a nation is we should compare our total laziness (debt) against our total production. Thankfully some nice men and women at Bloomberg have done so already;
It looks like, assuming Americans keep spending more than they make, we'll consume 4 times they amount we've produced, and that is frankly criminally greedy. No different than the bankers and scumbuckets who caused the financial crisis. But where is all this debt coming from?
You see, if we keep going along promising ourselves free food, free clothing, free shelter, free health care treating them as if they were "rights" and not what they really are (commodities) since they are "rights" nobody is going to work or "produce" for them. This not only lowers our production, but since we've (and when I say "we've" I really mean the socialists in congress and the socialist Barack Obama) promised ourselves free health care and unicorns and cars and ice cream, we will have to incur more debt relative to our production.
The long and short end of this lesson is a very simple, childish one, which most American adults seem to have a real hard time understanding;
If nobody works and everything is "paid for" nothing will be produced and even though you think you're "entitled" to these "rights," the reality is that of Soviet Russia;
Empty food shelves
Bread lines
And no, I'm sorry little Taylor, you don't get your I-Pod for Christmas. Hear some government issued coal (green coal of course).
Children Cause Poverty
You will never be able to convince me that the denominator in GDP per CAPITA doesn't at least have a 50% say in the matter.
The Man Cave
Monday, August 10, 2009
“Smiling John” Eastlack escaped from prison and was featured on America’s Most Wanted. He was sentenced to death for the murders he describes. When it was discovered that he has fetal alcohol syndrome, his sentence was reduced to life in prison without parole.
Part 4 left off with Smiling John on the run in Mexico.
Leaving the car in an alley, I knew it would be stolen and sold for parts in hours. I got out, and walked the strip into the exclusive Electric Q, one of the hottest clubs in all of northern Mexico. The cartels, corrupt cops, local models and movie stars all hung out there.
I walked in unchallenged by the bouncers and the VIP host with a clipboard.
Weeks later, witnesses and the club’s owners would tell the media they’d assumed I was a padrote, a hip Mexican slang word for a playboy.
I found a private booth overlooking the dance floor, entrance and exit, and chilled sipping strawberry daiquirĂs.
About midnight, when the club really started coming alive, my eyes settled on a woman who looked like Queen Isabella. She had long black hair with French bangs, almond-shaped green eyes, copper-cream skin and a full figure. I was floored.
Her name was Patricia and at 22 she’d just moved back to El Paso from Los Angeles after modeling for 6 years to help her father raise her two younger sisters. Maria 16 and Lucy 14.
She was sat there with a friend, Yvonne, both a league apart from the other woman in the club. Unapproachable because of a beauty most men find intimidating for fear of not measuring up.
I had a wife in Dallas, a fiancée back in Tucson, and was on the run, but all that went up in smoke as I got up and approached Patricia.
“Excuse me, do you speak English?”
Caught off guard by my question, they both looked at me as if they were expecting a punch line.
“Yes. Are you here by yourself?” Patricia asked, looking back to my booth where I’d been sitting alone for the past half hour.
I was glad they’d noticed me.
“Sit with us. My name’s Patty and this is Bonny.”
I shook their hands softly, and introduced myself. “My name is Vogue. Perry Vogue.” I said it just like James Bond, with a British accent and all. Once again I saw in the glint of their eyes that they were waiting for a punch line.
“Where are you from England, Australia?” Bonny asked.
“Actually, I'm from Port Stanley in the Falkland Islands off the coast of Argentina. It's an English territory.”
Once again they seemed to be judging me, weighing my words.
“Would you like to dance?” Patty got up and pulled me onto the dance floor.
Patty and I danced the night away. We went to two more clubs The Cosmos and Sesto Senso. She dropped me of at the Embassy Suites and we made plans for dinner at 9:00pm.
Woke up at 2:00pm. Went swimming for about an hour, worked out at the hotel gym, then showered. At 4:00pm, I crossed the I-10 and went into the Cielo Vista Mall where I bought some clothes, a Gucci watch, and roses for Patty.
At 5:00pm, I showed up at Fort Bliss Army Base and went to see Paul to pick up a tote bag, weapons, an ID plus cash.
He gave me a Beretta 92F 9mm, an M16A3 rifle 5.56mm, a battle dress uniform, a PV7, a rucksack, an EBL, ammo, an MK2 vest, 8 M28 fags, a Winchester M70 bolt-action rifle, and a Med K plus a pack. He also gave me a passport stamped USA, Mexico and Argentina from the Falklands (UK) for Perry Vogue 03-14-63, 6’2” 205lbs, been traveling for 60 days, expires on 10-01-89.
This did not dent Paul at all as he constantly set up kits for the Southern Command, covering Central and South America for the CIA, NSA, DIA, DEA, SOF and even Border Patrol, Joint Task Force 3, INS, and Customs.
My long-term goals were to freelance down in Mexico with some folks I’d met during Operation Snowcap, a drug-interdiction force still running at that time.
At 6:00pm, I went back to the hotel, stashed my gear and took a nap.
Patty picked me up 9:00pm and we went to the Red Lobster, then to a point that overlooked the city lights of El Paso, where we had a drink.
The rest of the week was a blur of clubs, movies, restaurants, sex and more sex. I was so caught up in the Vogue character I actually forgot who I was.
On 09-10-89 Sunday night at 6:00pm, I got a call from Paul at Fort Bliss. He told me my story was going to be featured nationwide at 7:00pm local time on America’s Most Wanted, and that I’d made number 7 on the FBI’s 10 most wanted list. I was wanted for murders in two states. Sources had spotted me everywhere from Hawaii to Miami.
Click here for Part 4.
Our friends inside appreciate your comments.
Email comments and questions for Smiling John to writeinside@hotmail.com or post them below. To post a comment if you do not have a Google/Blogger account, just select anonymous for your identity.
Shaun P. Attwood