Military veterans often speak before thinking for some reason. Since I have personally observed the totally wrong type of training results at Fort Leonard Wood, it should not be a shock when simply wearing an Ottawa Senators jersey prompts an ignorant female Army veteran to call me an 'ass hole'.
Such women are not deserving of a bit of grace since they do not know how to behave like ladies no matter what uniform they put on.
There are several ways to respond to an ignorant Army veteran who is weak at mind and even weaker in physical form. I showed the woman who calls herself 'Kat' mercy when I did not physically put a spoonful of Pedigree dog food into her untrained mouth. After being called an 'ass hole' just for choosing to play with an Oakland Grizzly rather than with her 'area 51' team, referring to her as a 'bitch' was following 'a tooth for a tooth' rule. After that, constructing a new Arnold Palmer course extension with a special 'Ass Hole' seemed like a good way to coach myself into good laugh after being verbally assaulted by a human unworthy of any blessings.
The most obvious sign of terrible training was when the Army 'nurse' said it as confusing to have an Ottawa player on the north team playing with other white people. She said I was 'dark' and I corrected her and told her I am 'white', regardless of the color of my 'Heatley 15' jersey. Maybe if I had 'Hoffman' on my jersey she might have had more of a reason to be confused, but real teams in a war, whether spiritual or physical, do not always get divided by the color of their jerseys.
The conduct of many veterans is appalling and disgusting; thankfully there are a few veterans such as my Uncle Andrew Biene and my old Milwaukee neighbor William Taylor that are wonderful citizens to have taking up space on United States soil. I followed my own medical advice after being verbally assaulted without good reason by the improperly trained female 'Kat', and proceed to 'Nacho's' where I hoped they would treat a guest better than 'Kat' does. Indeed, I was treated well at the Nacho Ramirez diner, and noticed Rocky Ramirez, Donald Joseph, some Cardenas#10 athlete and Nancy Schultz in a few frame jobs. A few sombrero questions and the 'Ned and Dusty' amigo effect led me toward Lucky's Steak House. At Lucky's, I was wise enough not to drink all the Jagermeister that was poued into the tumbler set before me, and once again I may have avoided 'entrapment' into a drunken driving situation. Maybe I disappointed the typical Deomcratic ass known as Anthony Wickersham types, who probably rather see me drunk and in handcuffs, heading toward a county bullpen. I'm quite sure that Axel the LaPeer dog and the Michigan State Troopers were thankful I left behind about 50% of the liquor poured out for me. I never want to end up out of control like Linda Maria Meyer Hendrikson Costa, and I certainly don't want to have my Allstate Insurance go up due to an accident I might be able to prevent by staying sober.
Anyone heard from Don Rasmussen lately? I'm not a bad reporter, even though I do report attacks against me rather than popping anti-depressants into my angelic mouth hole to alleviate stress.
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