For Those Who Gave Their Lives

So We Could Surf The Webs

The Lifeguard was thinking about the fact that 71 years ago today, the Greatest Generation took to all manner of machines to begin a frontal assault on Fortress Europe. He imagines that they were scared, and that many of them wept as they awaited the invasion.

We owe our existence to those brave (but terrified) men who did what they knew to be right and just. And, as The Lifeguard looks at the world around, he thinks, "We are not worthy of this life that we have been given."

So, today, maybe it's time to remember (and to repay) that debt. Start by reading this. (And, if you don't like it, shut the fuck up.)

BOSTON CAIRS

A Boston Police Department officer and an FBI agent shot (and killed) Usaamah Rahim (who is probably a Muslim) outside of a Roslindale CVS. Rahim was a person of interest to a joint anti-terror task force run by the FBI and Boston PD. 

Unfortunately for Rahim, he was not #WearingOrange to protest gun violence. Doubly unfortunate? He did not drop the military-style knife he was wielding when asked.

Fortunately for the people of Boston, we are spared the expense of a trial and incarceration of another potential terrorist.

Travel Sucks Already

"I'm From The Government 

And I'm Here To Help."

In a shocking development, we learn that the TSA lets something like 95% of all guns and explosives through security. So, after billions of dollars (and more than a few sexual assaults), we are left with an entity that is worse at doing its job than the United States Postal Service and Congress. (And, that's saying something.)

In fact, it could be argued that TSA screenings do nothing to make the traveling public safer. (It seems, however, that TSA agents have been able to make a few bucks by ripping off passengers, so perhaps it washes out in the end.)

The biggest surprise, however, is that the incompetent boob in charge of the TSA, Melvin Carraway, is merely being reassigned. Seriously, if Jeh Johnson, Secretary of Homeland Security were at all concerned with...well...Homeland Security, he would have fired Carraway. Maybe shamed him. Humiliated him in front of the cameras.

Frankly, a guy who has as much time in law enforcement as Melvin Carraway should be more about accountability; however, that may have been impossible at the TSA, where there is so much dysfunction that perhaps everyone should be assigned...to the Post Office.

The Lifeguard has had his share of bad experiences with the TSA, ranging from the confiscation of a very scary knife (after having traveled with it for over a year) to a pat down that ended with a shared cigarette and a cuddle. 

But, since we are so concerned with political correctness and making people feel good, we have taken a wrong-headed approach to security which has done everything but make us safer.

Fortunately, the HMIC (Head Moron In Charge) has at least been removed. Now, if only we could get rid of the rest of them.

Holy Fuck What The Fuck Motherfucker?!?

Caitlyn Jenner has her debut on the cover of Vanity Fair, and The Lifeguard has to wonder whether or not there was some airbrushing, photoshopping, or trimming to get the picture just right.

And now? The Lifeguard has to go and get some bleach.

For his eyes.

Speedos!

The Lifeguard has been on an(other) extended hiatus, but as the 2016 Presidential Campaign heats up, The Lifeguard thought it was his duty as a red-blooded American male to cut short his time embedded with Hillary! (and her cadre of female campaign volunteers) to return to the beat. Journalists never sleep, you know. (Especially when there are three American and Gender Studies majors from Wellesley College sharing your suite at the Ritz.)

The Lifeguard, by the way, credits the above-photo to the New York Post. (The picture was taken when Hillary! was midway through her description of The Lifeguard's...um...staff.)

So, without further ado, The Lifeguard brings you the first Speedos! of the 2016 Campaign Season.

• The Lifeguard has a piece of advice for the summer travel season. Stay the fuck out of West Africa. Seriously, if there were any reason to go to West Africa, The Lifeguard would still say, "Don't fucking go!" (Plus, America's wrong-headed immigration policy is bringing West Africa to us, so why bother with the security lines at the airport, visas, and deadly viruses that cause bleeding from the eyes, ears, and ass?) Seriously, don't go! 
• Some cat, who lied about his time in West Africa just died in New Jersey. (Note to doctors dealing with patients who say that they haven't been to West Africa: Don't fucking believe them. If Gregory House, M.D. taught us anything, it's that all patients lie.) The fact that this fucktard was walking around (when he should have been in isolation) should provide a poignant lesson in triaging patients who have fevers (and accents).
• The Lifeguard hopes that Senator Lindsey Graham (R-SC) gets into the 2016 race...and loses his home-state primary. America needs a leader that is...well...not Lindsey Graham. 
• Notwithstanding The Lifeguard's disdain for Senator Graham, The Lifeguard appreciates his military service. Oh, and if The Lifeguard were given the choice between Graham and Rick Santorum, he'd take Graham any day of the week.
• The Lifeguard thinks that Hillary! should have taken a lesson from Graham, vis a vis emails (and her private server).
• Things seem to be going remarkably well for ISIS. Thank God we got rid of President George W. Bush's "Cowboy Diplomacy." Things are going swimmingly under this administration.
• Former Republican House Speaker, Dennis Hastert (R-IL) is in the midst of a sex-scandal (and it's cover-up). While the details are unclear, all you need to know is that he was a wrestling coach.
• The Lifeguard sends his condolences to Vice President and Mrs. Joseph R. Biden (and their family) on the death of their son, Beau. And, while The Lifeguard and VP Biden share dramatically different political points of view, The Lifeguard has always held a spot in his heart for the Vice President. RIP, Beau Biden.
• Secretary of State John F. Kerry (who served in Vietnam) broke his leg while cycling in France. Rather than have surgery in France (where they have socialized medicine), he returned to Boston (and MGH, where they do not...yet). He is withdrawing from the Iran nuclear talks, which gives the United States a chance to get righteous about the threat that a nuclear Iran would pose to the world.
• There is no truth to the report that Secretary of State Kerry has put himself in for a Purple Heart.
• But only because he hadn't yet thought about it.
• Secretary of State Kerry should not wear spandex. (You'll have to Google it if you want to see a picture. There are some things that even The Lifeguard will not do.)
• EL James is going to publish a new book, written from the perspective of Christian Grey. The book will be released on June 18th, which is Christian's birthday. The book will be titled, Fifty Shades of Creepy Stalking by a Billionaire. The Lifeguard weeps for America's soul.
• There is no truth to the rumor that she simply copies Senator Bernie Sanders (I-VT) 1972 essay on rape and sexual relationships.
• But only because she hadn't yet thought about it.
• The Lifeguard didn't want to go to Baltimore before the riots. He certainly doesn't want to go now. 
• Isn't it queer that race-relations in America are worse now (with a genuine African-American POTUS) than they were when we had a bunch of old white guys in the big boy chair at 1600? One can only imagine what will happen to relations between the sexes if Hillary! gets elected.

That's about enough for now. The Lifeguard is off, like a prom dress.

Get The Lifeguard a Meeting With Sony Pictures!

The Lifeguard Is A Marketing Genius!

Fifty Shades of Grey

For The Rest Of The World

Aanisah al-Steele, a 22-year-old virgin (natch) student carefully adjusted her burqa. She was taking her roommate's place for an interview with Prince Aswad, a brooding 26-year-old billionaire (and ISIS spokesman) at Aswad House in downtown Fallujah.

When she arrives, she is ushered into his stark offices and is offered a bottled water. (Watching Aanisah drink water in a burqa will surely be as entertaining as the EL James product was not.) But first, they must pray.

After prayers, Aanisah asks Aswad her roommate's prepared questions before she is whisked away to become one of Prince Aswad's wives. (She doesn't have any say in the matter, as Prince Aswad gets what he wants because he handsome, rich, and has a very big gun.* Plus, she's a woman, so her wants are secondary to her obligation to provide sexual pleasure--and future suicide-bombers--to men waging jihad.)

Then, it's time for prayers.

Prince Aswad sends three goats to Aanisah's parents, along with a threat that if they try to talk to her, they will end up like other prisoners of ISIS.

Aswad takes Aanisah to his spacious palace, which once belonged to Saddam, and shows her his kitchen, his grand piano, the golden toilets, his fourteen other wives, and his "red room of pain." (Fortunately, Aswad was able to re-purpose the "rape room" into his "red room of pain.")

Aswad is eager to deflower his new bride; but, first, they must pray.

After Aswad violently deflowers Aanisah, he tells her that not only has he given her a scorching case of herpes, she will also be passed around by his bodyguards because it is her duty to give pleasure to jihadis (before they go to paradise, where they will get more pleasure). She raises her eyes to meet Aswad's, and she smiles. She knows her duty, and she embraces it with all of passion that makes mothers send their sons off to be suicide bombers.

The next day, after prayers, Aswad tells Aanisah that he is going to show her something wonderful. They drive to the airport, where he straps her into a glider. She is giddy with excitement, and tells Aswad that she has never flown before. Her excitement builds until he arms the bomb and closes and locks her canopy. He comforts her over the radio as he climbs into the tow plane, and as they are taking off for their destination a mere 69 kilometers away.

Aanisah frantically calls Aswad, but he does not answer. She looks behind her, in the pilot's seat, and gazes on a timer, explosives, and boxes of ball bearings.

Her pleas to Aswad are met by radio silence. She thinks about how wonderful her life has been, and the contributions that she has made to Islam in her short lifetime. If only she had been able to give Aswad the little suicide bombers that he craved. If only.... She looks down on the Euphrates, and at Baghdad as the tow rope falls away.

She screams one last time into the dead radio. "Aswad!"

The glider, losing its momentum, noses over and into the crowded market, disappearing in an orange fireball as the masses are ripped asunder by the explosive power of the bomb, as well as the rat-poison-coated ball bearings and chunks of the fuselage of the glider.

As the tow plane banks right, Aswad surveys the wreckage and mayhem and he thinks, "I still have fourteen wives."

*By "gun" The Lifeguard means...well...a 9mm semi-automatic.

Happy Black History Month!

Black History Month?

Maybe We Need Muslim History Week.

Six years into the Obama Administration, and we are still using terms like "black ice" and "blackballed."  You'd think that in a post-racial world, we'd stop calling a "spade a spade" and start calling it a "fucking shovel."  You'd think.

Someone get Sharpton on the phone! STAT!

Two things popped out when The Lifeguard read this story about Mo'Nique.

First, isn't it interesting that Lee Daniels and Mo'Nique freely use the term "blackballed." I thought that was a racist term that was insensitive to blacks.

Second, Lee Daniels notes, at the end of the article, that Mo'Nique is...to use the technical term...a "douchebag"...who is everything but a team player. (And, since Hollywood is all about the Benjamins, it makes sense that people who don't play the game get shunted aside, regardless of the depth of their talent.)

So, isn't it unfair to report that Hollywood is at fault (for keeping an undeniably talented black actress on the sidelines) when her friend (and undeniably talented black actor, director, and producer) admits that she's a difficult person with whom to work? Would this blunt Reverend Al's push to wring some of those Benjamins out of the Hollywood studios?

Also, can we get on the the "black ice" thing? The Lifeguard has been on the case for years, and has had no success. All he needs is a few million dollars, and a show on MSNBC. (Preferably following Rachel Maddow. The Lifeguard finds her strangely attractive, especially when she wears those tight blue jeans and riding boots.)

Fifty Shades of

What the Crikey Fuck?!?

The Lifeguard returns with a review of the blockbuster movie, Fifty Shades of Grey, which was released on the world (like a case of the mumps) on Friday the thirteenth.  And, since there are about 100 million oversexed women who read the eponymous book (and another 100 million men who want to get laid), it seems that Valentine's Day weekend would be a good jumping off point for the movie, which had made about $35 million as of this writing.

Sadly for everyone (but EL James), the movie was horrendous. The acting in the film was awful. Even Judy Dench and Daniel Day Lewis couldn't make this shit believable (or watchable). Interestingly, in a story that demands that the audience accept the convention that Christian Grey (played by some dude) and Anastasia Steele (played by Dakota something-or-other) had some animal attraction, we are treated to two people with less on-screen chemistry than Bill Cosby and the twenty-six women who have accused him of drugging and raping them.

Christian Grey is a rich, brooding douche bag. Oh, sure, he can play the piano, fly a glider and a helicopter, and tie a necktie; but, then again, so could Thomas Crown. (And, Pierce Brosnan was way more likable.) Come to think of it, so was Steve McQueen. (See, Steve McQueen was in the original The Thomas Crown Affair, which was made back in 1968, when movies were dependent on acting, not CGI and shameless promotion.) He is dominant; and, quite possibly, a stalker. Then again, if he could carry a football, Christian Grey could play for the Ravens.

Anastasia Steele is a mousy college student, a lover of Hardy, and (naturally) a virgin, who meets Christian Grey when her roommate, a reporter for the school newspaper, comes down with the flu. After the interview, he starts stalking her, has his lawyers draw up some papers, and then he fucks out her brains. (After putting on a condom, of course.)

And then, Christian does some creepy things, Anastasia does some dopey things, and the movie ends, leaving us wanting...anal fisting. (Because, at least when you get the fist, you get it with lube.)

The Lifeguard gives it no stars.

And, may God have mercy on our souls.

The Lifeguard Had Ebola This Morning!

Ebola Kellogg's Frosted Flakes.  They're grrrrrrreat!