Too good not to pass around. Some guys with steel cojones over on the FreeRepublic board harrassed the Spotted Al as he cruised down the Mississippi, with his taxpayer-funded Coast Guard escort.
http://www.freerepublic.com/forum/a399f012a4c3f.htm#1
Pirates on the Mississippi
FREEPER NAVY GOES IN HARM'S WAY
Source: FReeper Flotilla
Author: STD
Just after dawn five sleek shark shaped fast attack craft slipped their moorings and headed into harm's way.
With an itinerary of dubious quality, the group depended upon CB radio intercepts to determine the location of the target. Having been told that the target would be escorted by heavily armed Coast Guard vessels, radio silence was strictly maintained.
Handheld searchlights were necessary to navigate a stretch of the Mississippi known locally as "The Narrows".
Just after ten am our target was spotted rounding the river bend 2 miles to the north of this restricted choke point. By prearranged plan two of our pirate vessels leaped forward.Their mission was to aim directly at the target and draw off the escort allowing the main body to come in right on top of the target.
The Coast Guard escort reacted predictably intercepting the first two boats and hailing them over a PA system.
This allowed our other three boats to draw up to the erstatz paddleboat. Presenting our colors, a "Don't Tread On Me Flag" we then cut loose with a broadside. The response to the new "AlGore Citizen's Arrest Chant" was not at first apparent. We even thought momentarily that our chant had not been heard over the sound of the boats engines.
Imagine the suprise we got when up popped at least forty well dressed campaign sheeple and reporters. The second deck of Mark Twain is at least thirty feet above the water and they towered over us. Among the crowd SS and Coast Guard swabbies came up with M-16's.
The captain of the paddleboat cut the Mark Twain's engines, our boats having placed themselves pracariously in front of his enormous bow. Our camoflage pirate attire really shook them up! They stood speechless, barely able to shake the shock off their faces. So we started a new chant to liven them up. This time it was "Go-Lie,Go-Lie Elect These Pr!cks and Freedom Dies".
The captain came on the horn and tried to drown out our megaphones with a rather pathetic PA system. Thanks to my Chinese made monster it was no contest. We harranged them for yet another round!
My helmsman spotted the abrupt return of the Coast Guard escorts and we scattered at all speed. Despite twin outboards it was hard for the escort to decide which boat to chase.
Because our boats draw little water all of our brave drivers met back at our starting point within forty-five minutes. Ollie reports that the C.G. boat chased him twenty miles down river before giving up. We all raised a cold one to him and his big block, because had it been anyone but Ollie we'd be cooling our heels in the clink. Janet Reno in leather regalia ready to obtain information.
EEEEuHHHH!
You can't imagine the high! I doubt that the press reporters and cameras on hand include our naughtical exploits, but you would not believe the grins. I'm washing my hoarse throat and a now gleaming bass boat. We're now having a cookout, me and my fellow pirates here on the Mighty Mississippi.
Maybe they will have the b*lls to come visit me again. I'll keep ya all posted.
-- 30 --
And an interesting observation from another area --
Way to go Dr. Mike! This sounds suspiciously like the Dubuque area to me, so maybe this would be a good time to relate my observations on the “Charting a Course to America’s Future” carnival boat and floating wooden effigy exhibit.
Last night, I was undercover (in Dubuque, all ‘Pubs are undercover... even I don’t know the identities of the other two) at a local event, where I heard one of our home-grown UAW/IWW/WOW types engage a few natives in some good old-fashioned “Dem talk.”
This retired guy with a case of “dunlop” disease, extraordinarily bad taste in clothes, and 10W-30 hair was giving out “tickets” to the upcoming event,
‘splaining the deal thusly: there were three colors, with three levels of importance - once again giving the lie to the Democrap claims to egalitarianism.
This commissar was telling his fellow traveler that he could only have them if he was serious... they had to go only to people who would actually show up. By the time this grotesquely partisan caricature had run through his “why I hate George W. and all Republicans” speech, I had heard all that I could take on the subject of Al Gore.
I arrived at Dubuque’s Hawthorn St. boat ramp after 10:00 am, due to one of those easy mechanical tasks that turns difficult.
I thought that I’d have trouble getting through the crowd, but I found it surprisingly sparse compared to, say, the annual dragon boat festival or the past power boat races (memo to GWB: come through when we have one of our almost weekly pseudo-festivals, and you will have a built-in crowd to wow).
Let me put it this way: there was more excitement back when they filmed "F.I.S.T." and "Take This Job and Shove It" (heck, wouldn't anyone my age rather see Art Carney than Joe Liberalman?). From the looks of it, half the humans milling about were imported anyway... it seemed that the Greyhound Park and Diamond Jo casinos were more successful than the Capitalist Prince's floating stop'n'stump.
Pleased to no end at what I viewed as a very mediocre turnout considering that this is taking place in the Tammany Hall of Iowa, and equally happy with the fact that there were not a hundred boats out there fawning over Clinton Junior, I decided to skip any further torture and do my thing.
Driving past auxiliary traffic officers with no traffic jam to untangle and nothing to do (hey! I am serious about this turnout, and don’t let the press fool you), I proceeded down the river a bit, just to watch the helicopter that was repeatedly circling over the river.
Apparently, the SS (or someone) had a rather nasty looking mil-type chopper, and they circled some poor guys who had been sitting there a while (and who remained there after the Ship of Fools passed). That wasn’t you, was it Dr. Mike? If it was some poor schmucks trying to get some fishing done, they might as well have stayed home.
If you had glanced at the riverwall and seen a stern, middle-aged man (with a conservative bearing) watching the proceedings and placidly eating a hamburger, that was me. The flotilla of USCG
“minesweeper,” smaller boats with flashing lights and uniformed officers (for all I know, with a unit of Secret Service in scuba gear walking along underneath), and the Mark Twain then passed the city, having to keep to one side of the channel in order to avoid a barge of empties that was too big for the blue boys to chase off to the side.
If Al was to arrive by boat at Bellevue by 2:00, he must have been fashionably late, as the Thirteenth Fleet had just cleared the Julien Dubuque monument at 1:52. Shortly after that, the cry "HEY AL! WE’RE OUT HERE IN THE BUSHES!" was heard coming from somewhere out in those tree-clad bluffs (at least they ought to have heard it, because it would have been loud enough even without amplification). Catharsis.
Anyway, it was good to see the light turnout, and now that I know a nice chunk of what boats there were were manned by the good guys, I am all the happier. I just wish I had heard you in action.
Considering that the early AM weather was very good and this was the last weekend of vacation for the kiddies, Al is not firing up some of the faithful around here. Just more old wood drifting down with the current.
Ed
------------------
"The night is nearly over; the day is almost here. So let us put aside
the deeds of darkness and put on the armor of light." (Romans 13:12)
http://www.freerepublic.com/forum/a399f012a4c3f.htm#1
Pirates on the Mississippi
FREEPER NAVY GOES IN HARM'S WAY
Source: FReeper Flotilla
Author: STD
Just after dawn five sleek shark shaped fast attack craft slipped their moorings and headed into harm's way.
With an itinerary of dubious quality, the group depended upon CB radio intercepts to determine the location of the target. Having been told that the target would be escorted by heavily armed Coast Guard vessels, radio silence was strictly maintained.
Handheld searchlights were necessary to navigate a stretch of the Mississippi known locally as "The Narrows".
Just after ten am our target was spotted rounding the river bend 2 miles to the north of this restricted choke point. By prearranged plan two of our pirate vessels leaped forward.Their mission was to aim directly at the target and draw off the escort allowing the main body to come in right on top of the target.
The Coast Guard escort reacted predictably intercepting the first two boats and hailing them over a PA system.
This allowed our other three boats to draw up to the erstatz paddleboat. Presenting our colors, a "Don't Tread On Me Flag" we then cut loose with a broadside. The response to the new "AlGore Citizen's Arrest Chant" was not at first apparent. We even thought momentarily that our chant had not been heard over the sound of the boats engines.
Imagine the suprise we got when up popped at least forty well dressed campaign sheeple and reporters. The second deck of Mark Twain is at least thirty feet above the water and they towered over us. Among the crowd SS and Coast Guard swabbies came up with M-16's.
The captain of the paddleboat cut the Mark Twain's engines, our boats having placed themselves pracariously in front of his enormous bow. Our camoflage pirate attire really shook them up! They stood speechless, barely able to shake the shock off their faces. So we started a new chant to liven them up. This time it was "Go-Lie,Go-Lie Elect These Pr!cks and Freedom Dies".
The captain came on the horn and tried to drown out our megaphones with a rather pathetic PA system. Thanks to my Chinese made monster it was no contest. We harranged them for yet another round!
My helmsman spotted the abrupt return of the Coast Guard escorts and we scattered at all speed. Despite twin outboards it was hard for the escort to decide which boat to chase.
Because our boats draw little water all of our brave drivers met back at our starting point within forty-five minutes. Ollie reports that the C.G. boat chased him twenty miles down river before giving up. We all raised a cold one to him and his big block, because had it been anyone but Ollie we'd be cooling our heels in the clink. Janet Reno in leather regalia ready to obtain information.
EEEEuHHHH!
You can't imagine the high! I doubt that the press reporters and cameras on hand include our naughtical exploits, but you would not believe the grins. I'm washing my hoarse throat and a now gleaming bass boat. We're now having a cookout, me and my fellow pirates here on the Mighty Mississippi.
Maybe they will have the b*lls to come visit me again. I'll keep ya all posted.
-- 30 --
And an interesting observation from another area --
Way to go Dr. Mike! This sounds suspiciously like the Dubuque area to me, so maybe this would be a good time to relate my observations on the “Charting a Course to America’s Future” carnival boat and floating wooden effigy exhibit.
Last night, I was undercover (in Dubuque, all ‘Pubs are undercover... even I don’t know the identities of the other two) at a local event, where I heard one of our home-grown UAW/IWW/WOW types engage a few natives in some good old-fashioned “Dem talk.”
This retired guy with a case of “dunlop” disease, extraordinarily bad taste in clothes, and 10W-30 hair was giving out “tickets” to the upcoming event,
‘splaining the deal thusly: there were three colors, with three levels of importance - once again giving the lie to the Democrap claims to egalitarianism.
This commissar was telling his fellow traveler that he could only have them if he was serious... they had to go only to people who would actually show up. By the time this grotesquely partisan caricature had run through his “why I hate George W. and all Republicans” speech, I had heard all that I could take on the subject of Al Gore.
I arrived at Dubuque’s Hawthorn St. boat ramp after 10:00 am, due to one of those easy mechanical tasks that turns difficult.
I thought that I’d have trouble getting through the crowd, but I found it surprisingly sparse compared to, say, the annual dragon boat festival or the past power boat races (memo to GWB: come through when we have one of our almost weekly pseudo-festivals, and you will have a built-in crowd to wow).
Let me put it this way: there was more excitement back when they filmed "F.I.S.T." and "Take This Job and Shove It" (heck, wouldn't anyone my age rather see Art Carney than Joe Liberalman?). From the looks of it, half the humans milling about were imported anyway... it seemed that the Greyhound Park and Diamond Jo casinos were more successful than the Capitalist Prince's floating stop'n'stump.
Pleased to no end at what I viewed as a very mediocre turnout considering that this is taking place in the Tammany Hall of Iowa, and equally happy with the fact that there were not a hundred boats out there fawning over Clinton Junior, I decided to skip any further torture and do my thing.
Driving past auxiliary traffic officers with no traffic jam to untangle and nothing to do (hey! I am serious about this turnout, and don’t let the press fool you), I proceeded down the river a bit, just to watch the helicopter that was repeatedly circling over the river.
Apparently, the SS (or someone) had a rather nasty looking mil-type chopper, and they circled some poor guys who had been sitting there a while (and who remained there after the Ship of Fools passed). That wasn’t you, was it Dr. Mike? If it was some poor schmucks trying to get some fishing done, they might as well have stayed home.
If you had glanced at the riverwall and seen a stern, middle-aged man (with a conservative bearing) watching the proceedings and placidly eating a hamburger, that was me. The flotilla of USCG
“minesweeper,” smaller boats with flashing lights and uniformed officers (for all I know, with a unit of Secret Service in scuba gear walking along underneath), and the Mark Twain then passed the city, having to keep to one side of the channel in order to avoid a barge of empties that was too big for the blue boys to chase off to the side.
If Al was to arrive by boat at Bellevue by 2:00, he must have been fashionably late, as the Thirteenth Fleet had just cleared the Julien Dubuque monument at 1:52. Shortly after that, the cry "HEY AL! WE’RE OUT HERE IN THE BUSHES!" was heard coming from somewhere out in those tree-clad bluffs (at least they ought to have heard it, because it would have been loud enough even without amplification). Catharsis.
Anyway, it was good to see the light turnout, and now that I know a nice chunk of what boats there were were manned by the good guys, I am all the happier. I just wish I had heard you in action.
Considering that the early AM weather was very good and this was the last weekend of vacation for the kiddies, Al is not firing up some of the faithful around here. Just more old wood drifting down with the current.
Ed
------------------
"The night is nearly over; the day is almost here. So let us put aside
the deeds of darkness and put on the armor of light." (Romans 13:12)