Remember the good ol’ days when we used to end wars? Y’know, by actually defeating our enemy? As opposed to now, when we just fight for a little while, then declare “Mission accomplished.”
And don’t forget to celebrate Nagasaki Day on Thursday!
Happy Birthday ‘Merica!!!!
Normally on Patriotic holidays I like to thump my chest and brag about how great our nation is. I like to talk a little shit on all the lesser nations of the world (I’m talking to you, France), rub their nose in our superiority and basically be the typical Ugly American.
But for this 4th of July I’m going to embrace my inner George H.W. Bush and be a kinder, gentler American. Today I’m just celebrating our nation by displaying a wide range of patriotic swimwear. Because let’s face it, everybody loves hot girls.
God Bless America.
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(BTW, Fuck You, China.)
I Am Not a Racist (I’m Just an Asshole)
It has been brought to my attention recently that the title of my blog could be construed as racist. So I’d like to take this time to set the record straight.
The inspiration for the title comes from old fashioned personal ads. Those of you old enough to remember the days before internet dating (or those of you that have seen crappy old romantic comedies) will recall that people used to place ads in the newspaper with messages like “Single white male seeks…” or “Divorced black female seeks…”
You may or may not also be aware that when gay people placed personal ads they would often say something like “Single white male seeks same.” So, taking these conventions as inspiration, I tailored my own unique twist and came up with “Single White Alcoholic Seeks Same.”
For the record, I am not gay, I am not racist, and for the last nine months I haven’t even been single. (I was single when I started my writings; now I’m using “single” in the more liberal sense, as in “not married.” Pray I don’t ever have to change this blog to “The Neutered White Alcoholic!”)
The “white” part just fit with the theme of an old-fashioned personal ad. It’s just a name I came up with. It sounded funny when I thought it up so I went with it. I have no issues with any race. I’ve drank with Mexicans, had sex with Asians, and I’ll be voting for a black man in 2012.
You got a problem with that?
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On a separate note, today is the Marine Corps’ 236th birthday. For those of you keeping track at home, the Marine Corps is actually a year older than the United States. That’s right, they not only protect the good ol’ U S of A, they basically created it! In honor of the finest soldiers in the world, I present you with a hot girl in USMC bodypaint:
And a hot girl taking off a Marine uniform:
And, finally, what I think is an actual, real-life Marine. At the risk of making light of all our soldiers do, I would totally go to war with this girl!
Semper Fi all of you.
Channel Your Inner “Ugly American”
I considered just re-posting my Memorial Day Weekend blog for this 4th of July, but then I thought “What kind of example would that set?” This is the birthday of our great nation. Writing something blatantly offensive and nationalistic is the very least I can to honor my country.
So, in that spirit, I’ve made just a small list of ways that you too can honor the greatest country on earth. I would suggest you make a drinking game out of it with your friends; whoever checks each of these off your list first gets a free drink from the rest of the group.
Here’s the list:
–Find a Canadian person and complete at least two of the following: 1) Refer to Canada as “America’s hat.” 2) Talk mad shit about the Vancouver Canucks losing the Stanley Cup, thus extending Canada’s Cup-less streak to 18 years. Make sure to tell them that Canada’s prized goalie, Roberto Luongo, was the third best goalie in a two team finals. And 3) ask them if the western Canadian provinces will really try to join the United States after those pesky French Canadians secede in Quebec.
–Start a “U S A! U S A!” chant for no reason whatsoever in a wildly inappropriate place, like church or the grocery store.
–Wear a blatantly patriotic and offensive T-shirt. Here are a few suggestions, courtesy of thoseshirts.com:
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–Watch A Few Good Men and tell everyone around you how Jack Nicholson is the real hero of the movie. If anyone tries to argue shout them down with one line: “You can’t handle the truth!”
–Make fun of soccer. Mercilessly. The only exception: It’s ok to watch the women’s World Cup under the pretense that you’re cheering for America, even though we both know you’re just hoping some chick will rip her shirt off again.
–Include the word “fucking” when mentioning any other nationality. Fucking Russians, fucking British, fucking Chinese, fucking Mexicans (although you should be careful with this one in most parts of America). Fucking Irish, fucking Germans, fucking Brazilians, fucking Egyptians. Try it, I think you’ll find it’s a lot of fun. Fucking French, fucking Nepalese…
–Drink American. No imported beers, no Polish vodkas, no Caribbean rums. For one weekend you can consume American booze. I recommend Tito’s Vodka or Budweiser’s new patriotic cans.
–Have sex with an American girl. I know a lot of people bag on Americans, call us fat and lazy and all kinds of other shit, but I still say American girls are better than any other nation’s females. Australia isn’t far behind, but at least on this one day you can do the right thing and bang an American chick.
–If for some reason you absolutely must have sex with a non-American girl (like if you’re married to a foreigner, if you’re a gigolo, or if it’s last call and you’ve struck out with all the American girls), make sure they know you’re only “planting your flag” as conquest and in honor of the greatest nation on earth. Be sure to tell them this before, during and after sex.
–Go to a Civil War reenactment and treat it like a sporting event, cheering madly for the guys in Blue. Mock and taunt anyone with a Confederate flag like you would your worst sports rival.
–Spend an obscene amount of money on fireworks. Then start blowing shit up.
–If anyone dares to criticize any of your showings of patriotism accuse them of being a communist. If you’re sober enough to form coherent sentences you can use the proper wording: “Are you, or have you ever been, a member of the Communist Party?” If you’re not sober enough to sound erudite and sophisticated (and I’m hoping you’re not), simply screaming “COMMIE! COMMIE PINKO SCUM!” will be more than sufficient.
–Ladies, wear a patriotic bikini to make us all stand at attention.
–Order a pizza with extra bacon and have it delivered to your local mosque. (Disclaimer: this could be a hate crime where you live. I do NOT advocate breaking any laws.)
–Play poker with your friends. Poker is the ultimate American card game. It was invented here, perfected here, and is as much a staple of the Wild West culture as cowboys, guns and hookers.
–Put flags on everything. Fly them from your porch, your car, your boat, your dog. Use tablecloths, napkins and plates with flags on them. Paint your face, slap on fake tattoos. Put flag stickers on everything, whether it belongs to you or not.
–Enter an eating contest. There are few things more American than wanton gluttony. But, if you do, you must beat any and all foreigners in the contest. Even if you’re up against the great Kobayashi. So be careful with this one.
–Start a fight with a foreigner. Any foreigner.
–Ladies, give a serviceman and/or veteran a blow job. Double points if he’s a complete stranger. Quadruple points if he’s been wounded or disabled. This one isn’t even a joke. It’s the right thing to do.
–Go out of your way to be the very essence of the “Ugly American.” Be loud, rude, abrasive and, above all, drunk!
God Bless America.
This Day in History
Today, June 19th, is a great day in American history. Anybody know why? First person to comment with the correct answer gets the respect and admiration (and public acknowledgement) of the Single White Alcoholic.
I’ll give you a hint: we killed someone…
Heroes & Villains
I know you’re all probably getting sick of hearing about Osama Bin Laden and the “War on Terror” by now. And I promise I will get back to stories of booze and boobs tomorrow, after this one last, final rant on our war with Islam.
The “War on Terror” did not start on 9/11, 2001. And it did not end with Osama Bin Laden’s death. If you’ll permit me just a couple minutes, I’d like to take you on a very quick journey through recent history. Below are a few people you should never forget:
— John O’Neill.
John O’Neill was an FBI agent obsessed with the threat of Al Qaeda long before most of us had even heard of the terrorist organization. Starting in 1995, when he helped capture one of the leaders of the 1993 World Trade Center bombing, he spent the next six years tracking Al Qaeda and Bin Laden and sounding the alarm about the threat they posed. In a sad irony not even Hollywood could have dreamed up, after O’Neill left the FBI due to disagreements over the handling of the USS Cole investigation, he took his next job in August, 2001, as head of security at the World Trade Center. He died less than three weeks later in the second tower on 9/11.
For the complete story, read the New Yorker article here.
— Leon Klinghoffer
Leon Klinghoffer was a retired American businessman, confined to a wheelchair. A peaceful man, with no ties to the military or any form of law enforcement, Klinghoffer was on a cruise with his wife for their 36th anniversary aboard the Achille Lauro when it was hijacked by a faction of the Palestinian Liberation Organization in October of 1985. (16 years before 9/11.)
During the hijacking, Klinghoffer was singled out for being both an American and a Jew. He was executed, shot in the head and chest, and both he and his wheelchair were thrown overboard off the coast of Syria.
The leader of the hijacking, Abu Abbas, escaped prosecution for his involvement in Klinghoffer’s murder by fleeing through several communist countries before finally settling down in Iraq. There he was sheltered by Saddam Hussein for almost 20 years before finally being captured in 2003. (Don’t ever say Saddam and Iraq weren’t involved in terrorism.)
— Robert Stethem
US Navy Seabee Robert Dean Stethem was aboard TWA Flight 847 in June of 1985 when it was hijacked by members of Hezbollah and Islamic Jihad. (Isn’t it funny how the same groups that were hijacking planes twenty-some years ago are now passing themselves off as legitimate political parties in the “peace process” with Israel?)
Stethem was singled out by the terrorists for being an American serviceman. They beat him, tortured him, and finally shot him in the head and threw his body on the tarmac of Beirut International Airport.
One of the hijackers, Mohammed Ali Hammadi, was caught two years later in Germany, attempting to smuggle explosives. He was convicted of Stethem’s murder and sentenced to life in prison. However, he was paroled in 2005. In June of 2010 he was killed by a US bomb near the Pakistan-Afghan border.
— Imad Mughniyah
You should never forget Imad Mughniyah either, but for far different reasons. One of the worst terrorists ever, Mughniyah was behind more attacks and murders than we can even begin to fathom. Just a few of these include the aforementioned hijacking of TWA Flight 847; the bombing of the US Embassy in Beirut in 1983 (sixty-plus killed); the Marine barracks bombing, also in Beirut in 1983 (241 Marines killed); and the bombing of the Isreali Embassy in Argentina in 1992 (29 killed).
Mughniyah evaded capture much longer than Osama Bin Laden, but eventually he also met his demise. In February of 2008 he was killed on the street in Damascus, Syria by a car bomb exploded as he walked by. It is still not known whether he was assassinated by Israeli intelligence or by a rival faction within the incestuous world of Islamic fundamentalism. But as long as he’s dead that’s all that matters to me.
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And there you have it. Three heroes and a handful of monsters. Don’t forget any of them. Notice two of the heroes were murdered long before Osama Bin Laden ever came along, long before Al Qaeda was a household word. And notice none of the monsters had any direct links to Bin Laden or Al Qaeda, and yet each of them died quite recently right in the middle of the “War on Terror.”
This war isn’t over. Not by a long shot.
Just 1.6 Billion to go…
-Osama Bin Laden (upper body injury) will not return to the game.
Too bad we had to be all respectful and bury his body at sea and in accordance with Muslim traditions. He sure didn’t observe any such respect to his victims. We should have wrapped him in bacon and strung him up in front of the World Trade Center site.
How Rambo Saved the World
In addition to being a pervert and a drunkard, you may not know that I’m also a history buff. So when I’m not chasing girls with shots of vodka, or chasing shots of vodka with girls, I’m usually philosophizing (is that a word? I’m a history major, not an English major) on the evolution of warfare and America’s struggle against the evils of communism, terrorism and hippieism.
Which brings me to today’s topic, how Rambo saved the world. Actually, to be fair, I should say Sylvester Stallone, since it was a combo of Rambo: First Blood Part II and Rocky IV. But since Rambo killed commies, whereas Rocky only knocked them out, and since Rambo was a life-altering figure in my development, I’m going to give him the bulk of the credit.
In 1985 I was 9 years old. Too young to truly appreciate the peril the free world faced from the evils of communism. Oh sure, I knew the Soviets were the “bad guys,” but to my young mind they might as well have been Cobra to America’s G.I. Joe. I had seen R-rated movies by that time, but they were nominally censored by my parents. We had a VCR (I think it was still a Betamax), and if my brother or I wanted to see an R-rated movie my parents would screen it the night before to determine if it met their standards; sometimes they would fast forward through a sex scene –it was years before I finally saw the supremely disappointing sex scene in The Name of the Rose— or particularly gruesome killing, but for the most part I wasn’t too censored.
But Rambo was the first R-rated movie I got to see in the theater, unscreened and uncensored. I have to admit, 9 years old is probably too young to be taking a gamble like that (if we’d been going to Silence of the Lambs at that age I’d probably be completely fucked up today as opposed to just slightly), but Dad wanted to see it as badly as I did so I got to go.
I won’t go too deeply into my own personal experience, but it’s safe to say that Rambo changed my life. It put a face on the enemy. It gave me an appreciation of the sacrifices our veterans made in Vietnam and every other war. And it awakened me to the fact that not everyone in America was really on the right side in this life-or-death struggle with totalitarianism. The world would never be the same for me.
On a world scale, Rambo’s affect was no less profound. Ronald Reagan was our president, and for the first time in the entire duration of the Cold War we were actually trying to win the war as opposed to merely contain our adversary. This is not a political rant. It is not partisan. Republican presidents Nixon and Eisenhower were just as incompetent in fighting the Cold War as Truman, LBJ and Carter. Like monkeys trying to fuck a football, the whole bunch of them. For 35 years, from the end of World War II in 1945, to the day Reagan took office in 1981, we were on the retreat in the Cold War. You could count our victories on one hand. Meanwhile, the losses piled up: Albania, China, Poland, Czechoslovakia, Hungary, Romania, Bulgaria, East Germany, Yugoslavia, North Korea, Cuba, Yemen, Congo-Brazzaville, Benin, Vietnam, Cambodia, Laos, Guinea-Bissau, Ethiopia, Angola, Mozambique, Somalia, Nicaragua, the Seychelles and Grenada. Most of the Middle East’s Muslim states allied themselves with the Soviets even if they did not become communist. (I’m pretty sure California went communist at some point in the 60’s as well.) It was a dark time. The light of liberty was literally flickering out across the world.
Until Reagan.
But even the great Ronald Reagan couldn’t do it alone. He needed help. That help came in the form of Pope John Paul II, himself a child of Soviet oppression in Poland. It also came from Margaret Thatcher, the greatest British leader since Henry V. (And no, I haven’t forgotten Churchill, Maggie blows him away.) But until 1985, that’s about all Ronnie had.
But in 1985 Sylvester Stallone brought Hollywood squarely into the Cold War with a propaganda campaign unseen since the days of Casablanca. In May Rambo came out; it portrayed the Soviets (and Vietnamese) as soulless, vile war criminals, hell bent on world domination. And in November Rocky IV came out; it portrayed the Soviets as soulless, vile cheaters, hell bent on athletic domination through steroids and intimidation.
Rambo and Rocky were huge on the homefront too. After years of declining morale and patriotism, Reagan had focused much energy on raising the national spirit. Both movies grossed over $300 million, and their blatantly pro-American message made people’s hearts swell with a pride that hadn’t been felt in years.
With the Soviets already on the defensive for the first time since the battle of Stalingrad, this new front did not sit well with the embattled Soviet premiere Mikhail Gorbachev. He publicly blasted the Hollywood propaganda machine (funny how he never seemed to mind when they were spewing out the usual Soviet-friendly propaganda Hollywood was notorious for during most of the 20th Century). The Soviet Minister of Culture decried Stallone’s movies as part of an “anti-Soviet campaign.”
And how did good ol’ Ronnie respond? Unlike past presidents who would have groveled and apologized, disavowed the films as not representing the true feelings of Americans, he embraced them. He bragged about watching Rambo in the White House movie theater. He mentioned Rambo in speeches, taunting Gorbachev and making it crystal clear that the days of American backpedalling were over.
To make a long story short, after being on the defensive for literally every day since the end of World War II, it took just 9 years to turn the tide so completely that the Berlin Wall fell. By 1991 the Cold War was over, and the Evil Empire was consigned to the “trash heap of history.” 
And Rambo was an instrumental part of it all. It wasn’t just the bad-ass way he blew Russkies away with his M-60 machine gun (shot one handed from the hip no less!) It wasn’t just that he carried a knife bigger than most swords. It was his will, his indomitable American spirit in the face of the seemingly unbeatable nemesis.
So next time you see any of the Rambo movies come up on AMC (that’s right, Rambo movies air on the American Movie Classics channel, so all you haters can suck it!), kick back and enjoy the flick. And don’t be afraid to shed a tear or two when he gives his famous speech.
A few other notes about the great John J. Rambo:
–Lest you think Rambo was just another action hero, a caricature similar to a thousand other brainless Seagal or Van Damme movies: The original First Blood novel used to be taught in college literature classes before Hollywood commercialized the name and story. David Morrell’s excellent novel is acknowledged as being one of the first works to discuss Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. In fact, First Blood dealt with the issue of vets struggling to re-assimilate into society before the medical community had even coined the term PTSD. Rambo is not a superhero, he is not invincible. He is flesh and blood. He also happens to be a badass motherfucker.
—Rambo III, released in 1987, saw Rambo head to Afghanistan to face down the Soviets once again. Since 9/11 this film has been mocked and derided for portraying the Muslim mujahedeen as allies and heroes. In fact, the film is even dedicated to the mujahedeen. And it’s true, those same mujahedeen would later produce such modern-day sweethearts as Osama Bin Laden and the Taliban. But let’s not be naive, this is the way the world has always been. Allies today become the enemies of tomorrow. Don’t forget, we once crawled into bed with “Uncle Joe” Stalin to defeat the Nazis. That’s right, in order to crush the Nazis in three-and-a-half years we allowed a new foe to flourish, one that would take 46 years to defeat. So by my calculations, as long as we defeat the Muslims in the next… uh, let’s see, carry the one… 604 years, it won’t have been as big a blunder as cozying up to the Evil Empire turned out to be.
Devastating Losses, Part II- The Patriotic Edition
My buddy Gotham and I were debating my post on the most devastating losses of our lives, and we decided that since not everyone who reads this is a Fighting Illini fan (and count yourself lucky if you’re not!), we should try to come up with a list of excruciating losses that most any sports fan could relate to. Maybe we’ll even make a series of posts, with guest entries from all my readers. But for Part II, I’ll limit myself to the worst losses for Team USA in the Olympics. If these don’t get your blood boiling then get the &%^$ out of my country!
So with a big assist from Gotham (who, BTW, hosts the definitive site for everything Illinois sports, www.illinoisloyalty.com) here’s a few of the worst days ever in the life of American sports fans.
#4- 1988 Olympics, USA basketball vs USSR.
I’m a child of the Cold War, so my hatred for the Soviets will never leave me. In my book they’re even worse than the Nazis. So when you combine my passion for sports with my pathological hatred for a country that murdered uncounted millions of people (40-60 million of their own people, God only knows how many hundreds of millions more worldwide), it’s no longer just a game.
1988 was supposed to be payback for the ’72 Olympics (more on that later). After losing our first Olympic basketball game ever in 1972, and a US boycott in 1980 followed by a Soviet boycott in ’84, this would be the first chance at redemption. Unfortunately, the US had the misfortune of having possibly the most overrated coach of all time, John Thompson. Besides only putting one true shooter on the roster (Hersey Hawkins), Thompson’s ego also compelled him to constantly berate and belittle a young center you might have heard of, David Robinson. When Hawkins went down with an injury early in the semifinal matchup with the Sovs, they were toast. The commies packed in the paint, daring the US to shoot, while using 7’4″ monster Arvydas Sabonis to rough up the younger, slighter (and now short on confidence) Robinson. The result was a demoralizing defeat to the Evil Empire.
In retrospect, there is small consolation in the fact that this was about the last thing the Soviets would ever win in anything, sports or geopolitics, and by the next Olympics most of the Soviet players the free world despised so much would be wearing the uniform of their newly freed republics and disavowing everything the Evil Empire stood for.
#3- 1988 Olympics, Roy Jones vs. Park Si-Hun
The most blatant case of bribery in Olympic history. Jones outpunched Hun 86 to 32 in three rounds and dominated every second of the fight. The referee admitted he was “dumbstruck” by the judges’ decision. Legend has it Hun even apologized to Roy for his undeserved victory. This fight led to massive reform in international boxing; reviews of how judges are selected, a new scoring system, and investigations into bribery of judges.
The silver lining to this travesty was it no doubt helped contribute to the fire in Jones’ belly that made him the most dominant fighter in the world for a good 14 years. For my money he’s the greatest pound-for-pound fighter ever, and watching him claim titles from middleweight all the way through heavyweight was a true joy.
#2- 2010 Olympics, USA Hockey vs. Canada
At the 2002 Olympics in Salt Lake City nobody really thought the US had a chance. But playing in their home country, they pulled together and made a great run to the gold medal game against the Birthplace of Hockey, Canada. Unfortunately, the amazing run came to a screeching halt against one of the greatest teams ever assembled. (Even non-hockey fans will recognize names like Lemieux, Yzerman, Brodeur, Iginla and Sakic.)
After Team Canada celebrated Olympic Gold on our home ice, 2010 loomed large as a chance for payback. This time it would be on Canadian ice, and although Canada would again be the most talented team in the world (most people didn’t think the US even had a shot at a medal), GM Brian Burke assembled a group of gritty, gutsy youngsters that would capture the hearts of all American hockey fans. When they beat Canada 5-3 in the preliminary round, you could just sense it was going to be a magical ride.
The Gold Medal game was a rematch with the Canadians, and it was everything it was hyped up to be and more. USA goalie Ryan Miller stood on his head, making 36 saves and keeping it close until Zach Parise could tie it up with just 24 seconds remaining in regulation. Parise’s goal, and Doc Emrick’s call, to me is still one of the greatest moments in sports history:
Unfortunately, it wasn’t meant to be. After the emotionally draining comeback, the US came out flat in overtime, and although Miller made several big saves, he couldn’t stop Sidney Crosby from putting the clincher in the back of the net.
A sad day to be sure, but I’m already counting down the days to 2014!
#1- 1972 Olympics, USA Basketball vs. USSR
Without a doubt the greatest travesty in the history of sports. Kind of like the United Nations, the Olympics are rife with politics, and this game was a shining example of anti-American zealots banding together to steal our victory.
It would take pages and pages to adequately describe everything that happened in this game. The short version is the Soviets, down 1 with three seconds left, were given three tries until they finally managed to score the winning basket. The officials bent, broke and made up rules to hand the game to the commies.
Here’s a fairly good video of all the BS that transpired in order for the Soviets to steal our Gold:
But even that doesn’t do justice to the full extent of the conspiracy involved to steal our Gold. In 1972, the US was undefeated all time in Olympic Basketball, 63-0 and 7-for-7 in Gold Medals. The biased officiating, the corrupt scoretable crew, the 3-to-2 jury of appeals (three commies vs. two free-world), it was a perfect storm of corruption and indecency.
I don’t often have much nice to say about President Richard Nixon, but I’ll give him credit for his restraint on this one. If I had been President there would have been a nuclear war that night.
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*If you would like to make a contibution to future “devastating losses” posts, share your pain with the world, contact me and we’ll see what we can do to “put you on the therapy couch.”*
Single White Alcoholic Seeks Same 