Joyanna Adams

Nobody's Opinion

Nobody’s Perfect: Nipple Twisting VS Identity Theft

Nobody’s Perfect:

The girls are getting heat stroke this week. We have more than a few women going off the deep well of “insanity” due, no doubt, a combination of heat stroke and PMS, along with a few too many cocktails. It was just reported on Drudge that some lady tried to sell her 3-day-old at Taco Bell for $500 dollars.
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Her big mistake was that she did not try Starbucks. Those people are so caffeinated they would have thought the baby was a new flavor hidden beneath a blanket of whipped cream. All she needed to do was put a cherry on the baby’s head.
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You have to have good money to keep spending $200 dollars on coffee every week. When it comes to supporting your drug habit, you need to get a good job at Google or someplace like that. And yes, caffeine is a drug too…drink too much of the stuff and you will find yourself on the Tour de France without a proper helmet. But then, that shows you the insanity.
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Enough about drug addicts…let’s get to my two favorite least perfect women of the week.
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First: A woman who busted onto the news and caught the hearts and minds of America, just couldn’t stand it anymore. She didn’t want to go through another one of those wonderful microwave machines, so Yukari Miyamae decided to grab a boob and twist. Only trouble is, that boob belonged to an employee of President Obama’s army of well-trained boob touchers. Only THEY are allowed to grab, pinch, pull, twist, and eventually probably suck certain nipples, to search for explosive milk. Not you. The woman was arrested on “suspicion of sexual abuse” which is a felony.
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Wow…did you know that just the “suspicion” of sexual abuse is a felony? Looking back on many of my bosses, I feel bad about all those missed opportunities I could have had in court.
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How many people think about sexually abusing someone every single day? And just what is defined as “abuse”? Is there a manual? Like… “Abuses of Sex, and What to Look For” by Manny Feller, (real name: Wiener)
If twisting a nipple without permission is a felony, then at least 15% of every male attending Mardi Gras on the last night before lent, should fork up some money.
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Funny, no charges have been filed—so does that mean that just maybe, at least one third of the entire TSA staff is making “sexual” touches here that perhaps could border on abusive?
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And what does that say when Lady Gaga walks down the street and falls in front of a taxi and dies a horrible death because of her shoes? Would you say she is being “sexually abusive” ? Some men would say so.
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I wanna know the odds in Las Vegas.
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Miyamae has become a hero in many circles:
Yukari Miyamae had more than 900 backers Monday afternoon, with some praising her for her bravery and others offering to donate money to her defense. Others defended the TSA’s screening procedures, saying that people who don’t want to comply with security requirements shouldn’t fly.
She has to fly for her job. So does Angelina Jolie. I’m just saying.
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 Second: And then there’s Ms (I just HAVE to get married even though I might get caught) Hinton. She was just getting married when the cops came into the ceremony and booked her, and they didn’t even give her time to get out of her dress. She has every right to get mad, I say, think of all she spent on a photographer who would not return her money. She was booked on a two-year old felony warrant accusing her of identity theft.
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I’m here to tell you …Ms Hinton…your identity theft didn’t take. I don’t know whose identity you stole, but it’s not exactly becoming to your great criminal mind.
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Nobody Thinks the full moon and the bad economy, might just want to make you want to blame all these women going nuts on the time of the month. Well, it’s not. It’s Obama’s fault…once again.  Think about it: bad economy..TSA agents… Obama poor leadership has gotten the nation spiraling into a trickle-down “sexual abuse” landslide.  Today, the TSA agents: tomorrow: Congress.
Wait…

July 18, 2011 Posted by | humor | | 3 Comments

What was YOUR Favorite Car?

Nobody’s Opinion:

For over a year now, I have been turning to my husband and saying when we drive , “Where is everybody? It’s Sunday!” It upsets me that on certain days the streets are empty, and not for lack of people. What are they doing? Hiding in their cell phones?

I know why: Everyone has to conserve gas, …trips are being carefully planned by all of us, and I KNOW it’s shouldn’t bug me…but it does. The car to most Americans– represents, plain and simple: freedom. Especially if you live in California, where according to the movie, “MACHETE” we will be invaded by Mexicans in their elevated chassis, bearing giant machine guns, bazookas, and various home-made bombs, with men reeking of the need for a strong deodorant.

The future’s so bright, I gotta wear a bullet proof vest.

Obama has made it clear: He wants us OUT of our cars, and onto the trains. I don’t know how most feel about it, but if you lose the ability to get in your car and drive to Colorado, or New York, or Texas, and you lose your freedom.

I woke up thinking about this…really. I was remembering all the cars that I have owned, and realized I could measure the years and events of my life by my cars. America has been…all about the car. Just ask P.J. O’Rourke. For the boys: it the car. You reach puberty and that first car is probably, next to sex, the most important thing on your mind.

So, my second waking thought was— Why did I like one car over another?  My favorite car, was not what you would have expected.

“The Purple People Eater” was my first car. I was sixteen, and I had purple everything: boots, bell-bottoms, shirts, dresses, eye shadow to match. It was my ticket to college.

Free at last!  I liked that so much, that I traded it in for a brown duster. My favorite memory was in that Duster: I was eighteen when I asked a young fellow to be my escort, and we drove 13 hours straight into New Orleans, to see Mardi Gras, where we both, innocent as lambs, went to our first strip bar, and got kicked OUT of our first strip bar, because neither one of us had more than dollar bills on us. The strippers had to have tens. Who knew? But the back seat folded down, and left plenty of room for two to sleep. And you know what? We were completely innocent. Not even a kiss. I remember, a hand on my hip, because it was cold. Boy, was I ever so glad he was there.

Now, I came back, and my parents, who were real sticklers about trading in a car every three years, talked me into getting rid of it. So, I got a blue firebird, with white leather seats. I remember the guy who sold me the car, he could NOT believe that I actually wanted to keep my old brown duster. (That’s me standing next to the car, the day I bought it. )

Later…I traded that blue firebird in for a van, because, as a musician I had a lot of equipment to haul. I had four 4560 JBL speakers, and they took up the whole back end. The whole inside was carpeted. I loved that van, and had it for a good ten years, but then I traded it in for another firebird.  A truly beautiful yellow.

When I saw that care on the Pontiac display floor, I wanted it bad. The headlights folded up..so cool. . My five year old son kept saying “Get this one mommy” …Okay. Sold. I kept it and gave it to him when he was sixteen.

That’s him going to his first dance.

Once, Americans could fix any car. It’s one of the reasons we won WWII. When a machine broke down, our men could fix them, the Germans, not so much.  Now, with parts from all over the globe. Give it up.  Unless you are fortunate enough to have the talent to fix cars. Those men should be videotaped and their knowledge preserved. Hell…those men should be worshipped.

We are a vast country, and when Obama starts into his dreams of high speed trains everywhere, it gives me the willies. Here in St. Louis we have a train going downtown, and be real, I won’t ride it. Why? I can sit in a air conditioned car, with the power of the wheel, the speed as I pass the lonely streets…are you kidding? Take away the freedom to explore?

The elites want to change all that. If they had their way, we’d all go to work holding our lunch bags cruising along on our Segways.

Nobody says” You will tear my car out of my cold dead hands!”

Every car in my life brings back memories…drive in movies, back seats, driving in a blizzard in the mountains of Colorado. Even being tortured by the vast wheat fields of Kansas. I had some pretty nice memories…the yellow firebird was my favoirte to drive, but memories? The brown duster wins hands down.
You want to know why?

Because it was in that plain old brown Duster that I learned, that men can be noble, kind, sweet, gentle, and your best friend if you let them. They are not all out to get women, and trust me, that was the message from the great feminists at the time. I don’t know what it’s like for men, but I still wonder where Mike is. Looking back on it, he looked like a young Keeana Reeves. And If I had to do it all over again, I might never have gotten the blue firebird. I’m a practical gal.

UNLESS of course, you gave me the new
Lamborghini Aventador.

I’ve had many cars since then. But, we should make sure, that it’s not just the elites to get to drive cars in the future, don’t you think?

July 18, 2011 Posted by | economy, Life | 2 Comments