Predator Weiner Had His Own Predator law To protect His Victims From Predators Like Weiner!!

This could be a sick joke.

Keeping the Internet Devoid of Sexual Predators Act of 2007 – Anthony Weiner

If not, Weiner is a sick joke.

You Might Hope To Be A Redneck If....

My father was highly educated and a bedrock Northerner, but he said he married up, using my mother's vernacular, when he married my mother. He took in patients whether they were black or white, could pay or could not pay and it didn't matter to him if they couldn't speak the King's English or had an accent.

My mother's family came from Cumberland and Goochland county, Virginia having arrived there sometime in the 1600's. They had large land holding, were educated, as had their ancestors been when they landed at Jamestown. Whether a doctor of the law, medicine or whatever, they always listed them selves as farmers. They worked the land with their hands and upon returning from a trip across the county or abroad the first thing they did was scoop up their dirt and smell it.

Visitors to their land were welcomed, but before the business of their visitor was discussed the land was looked to. After the war, Robert E. Lee stopped by to visit, as he was trying to do with all of his officers, and after the welcome he commented that the property was in good shape. Paraphrasing my great great grandfather, the General was told that without God, the land and family there was nothing. As Lee rode away on a roan he passed lines of people holding out their hands to him. He asked why all these people were way out here in the country and they said they were helping out because my gg grandfather had helped their families before they got home and after they buried the colors and got home. He did this with half his face having been left on the battle field at Frayser's Farm courtesy of a Yankee sniper. He also did it because he knew it to be right.

Nobody was ever turned away and a neighbor in need was always looked after no matter their station, color or creed. Baptists helped Deists, Deists help Catholics and on and on. These were good people.

I received the following email from my brother-in-law, a native of Louisiana, who though I might recognize some of these people. Though they're from another state, a southern state, I did.

She and her editor gave approval to reprint the article, so I hope this helps give some  recognition

to some of Alabama's unsung heroes during and after the April 27th tornado outbreak:

Moulton Advertiser

Loretta Gillespie

May  7, 2011

"I Love Me Some Rednecks"

"Most all of us around here have  bourne the brunt of remarks from

people outside Lawrence County about being rednecks. Well, I'm here to tell

you right now that I love me some Lawrence  County rednecks!

Rednecks have Poulan chainsaws, bulldozers, four-wheelers  and big ol'

trucks - and they know how to use 'em. They aren't afraid of  getting

dirty or of hard work.

As soon as the wind died down, they  were the first ones out there,

clearing the roads for emergency vehicles to  get to where they

needed to be. They were standing up to their knees in  debris so that people

could get out of their driveways. They were checking on  neighbors who

lived in the hardest hit areas where cars and normal vehicles  didn't stand           

 a chance.

If you were the victim of the storm and found  your driveway

miraculously cleared, you can thank a redneck. If you have a  brush pile a mile

high and you didn't do it yourself, you can thank a  redneck. If someone

brought you a shirt to put on your back that day, or  hauled your

furniture to a storage facility, you can probably thank a  redneck.

Those good ol' boys waded through water filled with gas and  glass,

nails and torn tin roofs and no telling what else to offer assistance  to

people stranded in the rubble of their homes. They wore camo jackets

and John Deere caps, spit tobacco and more than likely did a little

cussing, but they got the job done, and they are the ones who are still out

there cutting up trees and burning brush long into the night, just as they

have been ever since the storms hit.

They didn't wait to be  asked...they just 'got 'er done' in the true

sense of the phrase. They didn't  stand around jawing and waiting for

someone else to take charge, they went to  work doing what they do

best - moving earth, pushing aside massive trees with root systems as big

around as a VW, and tossing aside boards with splinters the size of

kitchen knives.

And they did all this without any thought  of their own comfort or

safety. They put their scuffed cowboy boots and worn  work boots on

the  ground and tread across roof beams and unsteady floors to  make sure

 -story brick

houses to mobile home and barns. They already had a flashlight

and a pocket knife with them.

They rounded up their neighbor's cattle and horses and coaxed

kittens out of trees where the wind had tossed them and  they cried like

babies when they found someone's hunting dog broken and  bleeding.

They waded into poultry houses and caught terrified chickens,  and

tossed mountains of dead ones onto piles to burn. They began to hang tarps

and nail plywood over broken windows to save their cousins and other kin

folk's belongings. They didn't stop for hours on end, hooking chains

to cars, trees and any and everything that had landed helter-skelter as

the tornados tore through.

Rednecks just show up when there is work to be  done. They drive up

and with a silent nod, they just pitch in, salvaging  refrigerators and

hooking up generators. They don't care if they look cool and they

don't have to shave before they leave the house. They are tough as  nails

and love their mamas fiercely. They still say 'Yes, ma'm' and 'No,  sir,'

to anyone older than they are. They eat cornbread and pinto beans and

drink tea so sweet a spoon will stand straight up in the glass. They sweat

and  swear and have grease under their nails sometimes. They can deliver

a  calf and half an hour later be sitting in church, scrubbed to  a

fare-the-well. And did they ever save the day when the  thunder

rolled and the lightning flashed and the wind knocked down the houses  where

they were born?

They don't do it for the glory, and wouldn't dream of taking a dime

for it, and are sometimes even offended if someone  asks how much they

are owed 'cause that's what rednecks do - they drive loud trucks,

bobcats and front-end loaders, they crank cantankerous chain saws and  they

know the feel of rope burns and blistered faces. They get those red  necks

from the sun beating down relentlessly as they labor in the dust  and

smoke from all the brush fires. They think sun-screen is for sissies

and they don't worry much about anti-bacterial soap or drink fruit-

flavored  water.

Give me a Lawrence County redneck any day when trouble  comes - when

fences get blown over and the lights go out, and there are trees  and

houses strewn like matchsticks as far as the eye can see, what in

the  world would we do without these rednecks?

Thanks to all of you dear rednecks, you deserve medals for what you

have  done in the  past few weeks.  And don't think the world didn't notice,

they did. In fact, somebody is  probably writing a country song about

you as you read this."

Loretta  Gillespie writes for the Moulton Advertiser