Just another reason to stop spending so much money on Iraq and take care of our own in need:
Thousands of U.S. veterans returning from Iraq and Afghanistan are facing a new nightmare - the risk of homelessness. The U.S. government estimates several hundred vets who fought in Iraq and Afghanistan are homeless on any given night across the country, although the exact number is unknown.
The reasons that contribute to the new wave of homelessness are many: some are unable to cope with life after daily encounters with insurgent attacks and roadside bombs; some can't navigate government red tape; others simply don't have enough money to afford a house or apartment
[hat tip Patriot Daily.]
Up for diary rescue tonight:
Add favorites from the past 24 hours below and use as an open thread.
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She estimates she's been to 67 Dead concerts and reports she doesn't smoke pot. One of the funniest quotes:
I fondly remember seeing the Dead when I was at Cornell. It was the day of the fabulous Fiji Island party on the driveway "island" of the Phi Gamma Delta House. We'd cover ourselves in purple Crisco and drink purple Kool-Aid mixed with grain alcohol and dance on the front yard. Wait - I think got the order reversed there: We'd drink purple Kool-Aid mixed with grain alcohol and then cover ourselves in purple Crisco - then the dancing. You probably had to be there to grasp how utterly fantastic this was.
(image by darkblack!) Ladies and gentlemen, this may be the last transmission from me that you receive. By revealing the information I am about to entrust to you, I am placing my life in grave danger. I have locked myself in the FDL[...]
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Candidate, US Congress (Utah 3)
Dear Mr. Jacob,
You are right. Satan doesn't want you to go to Washington and is actively working to destroy your campaign. How else can you explain that just a little over a month ago, you beat your opponent at the Utah State Republican Convention but are now struggling to stay even on the eve of the primary. Certainly, the Prince of Darkness, aided by gentiles and brown people, has hardened the hearts of voters against you.
Today, I saw Satan's ratfucking operation in action at sacrament meeting. I arrived early to get a good seat and found that someone had placed your campaign buttons on the pews, face down with the needles bent upward. Obviously, The Deceiver was trying to destroy you by poking worshippers in the ass with your campaign materials.
Well, tomorrow's your big day. Will Utah Republicans cast their votes for you, Tom Tancredo, and racial purity, or will they cast their lot with Cannon, Satan, and Mexicans?
You know Beelzebub and his minions will be out there getting out the vote for your opponent. You'll need to counter their operation by stationing at least one pair of elders at the entrance of each polling place, where they can take hold of the voters as they arrive, anoint them with oil, and then use the power of the holy Melchizedek Priesthood to rebuke the demons inside them.
After that, it's all in God's hands.
Gen. JC Christian, patriot
p.s. You might also consider arming the elders with pointed sticks to use against the Mexicans.
A helmet tip to Darryl of Hominid Views.
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The Poobah family took a little day trip today. We braved the low fog and wind-driven San Francisco chill to follow a route called the 49 Mile Scenic Drive. Supposedly designed to take you to some of the more scenic spots in the city, we discovered there is literally no way to follow the map provided. Streets go one way - the wrong way, there are few signs, and in some cases the signs actually point in the wrong direction.
After a fair amount of backtracking trial and error, I decided to just freelance it and go on without a map. Mrs. Poobah, a stickler for structure and rules, valiantly kept trying to lead us back on track, but I finally persuaded her to let it go before the map drove her crazy. I'm convinced that if she'd been with Lewis and Clark, they'd still be trying to get out of St. Louis for lack of a proper map.
Relying on a little automotive orienteering, we wound our way cross town, through Haight Ashbury, around Lake Merced, and to the ocean where it was bitterly cold and foggy. As usual, the wet-suited surfers were out turning blue and a few hearty souls were laying out in bikinis and swim trunks working on their "fog tans". The more sensible folk wore heavy coats and a few even sported balaclavas to ward off the chill. All in all, a typical summer beach day for San Francisco.
From the beach, we tracked back across town. We zigged here and zagged there and generally saw quite a few things we'd never seen before, even if we had taken part of the same route before.
When we arrived in the central part of the city, we became entangled in the Gay Pride Day festivities. This was the 37th year for a mammoth parade - always led by a lesbian motorcycle group called Dykes on Bikes. A few years ago, they were joined by Mikes on Bikes, a male motorcycle group.
Lots of chanting and some speechifying here and there. Most streets were either closed for the Rainbow flag bedecked folk or choked with everyone from hetero families out for the day, like us, to a bizillion others of every orientation letting their freak flags fly. It was a very San Francisco kind of day.
I like the fact that I live in a place where congregations like this are normal and natural. There was no violence. Everyone, gay and straight alike, mingled and talked. The participants ran the gamut from the serious AIDS quilters to the more lighthearted men wearing nun's habits and full beards. It was a day to throw beads or flowers instead of bombs or epithets.
Other than taking forever to find an unblocked way out of the city, it was an excellent day. The sun finally came out, no pun intended, and everyone had a good time. In the back of my mind I kept remembering the asshats who want to muck all this up - literally rain on this parade - but I tried to return to the moment and enjoy what was going on while I could. I wanted to just concentrate on the goodness and forget, for a day anyway, the badness that all too often seems to attach itself to events like this. And for the most part, I was successful.
I guess you could say the family and I just had a gay old time.
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I finally had a chance, and available bandwidth, to update our $5 Primary graphic for the first time in over a week. Just look where we now are! A little under 2/3rds of the way to our goal, with 4.5 days left. Can we do it? Since over 700 of our contributions came in during the first 5 days of the drive, I believe we can finish off the event with a bang and hit that goal - even surpass it.
Email your friends, colleagues, softball team. Call your family, lost long high school pals, pet sitter. Together, we can do it.