Yesterday, I wore my Vietnam Veterans cap when I went to Wal-Mart. There was nothing in particular that I needed at the world's largest retailer; but, since I retired, trips to Wally World to look at the "Walmartians" are always good for some comic relief. Besides, I always feel pretty normal after seeing some of the people that frequent this establishment.
But, I digress... enough of my psychological fixations. While standing in line to check out, the guy in front of me, probably in his early thirties, asked, "Are you a Vietnam Vet?"
"No," I replied. "Then why are you wearing that cap?"
"Because I couldn't find the one from the War of 1812." I thought this was a snappy retort
"The War of 1812, huh?" the "Walmartian" queried. "When was that?"
God forgive me, but I couldn't pass up such an opportunity. "1936," I answered, as straight-faced as possible. He pondered my response for a moment and then asked, "Why do they call it the War of 1812 if it was in 1936?"
"It was a Black Operation. No one is supposed to know about it." This was beginning to be way too much fun!
"Dude! Really?" he exclaimed. "How did you get to do something that COOOOL?"
I glanced furtively around me for effect, leaned toward the guy, and in a low voice said. "I'm not sure. I was the only Caucasian on the mission."
"Dude," he was really getting excited about what he was hearing, "that is seriously awesome! But, didn't you kind of stand out?"
"Not really. The other guys were all wearing white camouflage." The moron nodded knowingly.
"Listen man," I said in a very serious tone, "You can't tell anyone about this. It's still 'top secret' and I shouldn't have said anything."
"Oh yeah?" he gave me that, 'don't threaten me look.' "Like, what's gonna happen if I do?"
With a really hard look I said, "You have a family don't you? We wouldn't want anything to happen to them, would we?" The guy gulped, left his basket where it was and fled through the door. By this time the lady behind me was about to have a heart attack, she was laughing so hard. I just grinned at her.
After checking out and going to the parking lot I saw the Dimwit leaning in a car window talking to a young woman.
Upon catching sight of me he started pointing excitedly in my direction. Giving him another 'deadly' serious look, I made the 'I see you' gesture. He turned kind of pale, jumped into the car and sped out of the parking lot in a flurry of dust. What a great time I had!
Tomorrow I'm going back with my Homeland Security cap.
Then the next day I will go to the DMV so I can wear a Border Patrol hat, and see how long it takes to empty out the place.
Whoever said retirement is boring just needs the right kind of cap!
God Bless America
Raise your hand if you FULLY support Ilhan Omars home getting RAIDED by President Trumpโs DHS
Fake News said nobody asked for this
I want to prove how POPULAR it is
ICE is in the streets and Zohran Mamdani is the face next to them after an incident in New York. The picture is testing whether support for enforcement holds. Do you still back ICE?
For nearly ten years, he walked into the same pharmacy every month. He took out a folded $100 bill, placed it on the counter, and walked away. Nobody was supposed to know why.
His name was Hody Childress. He lived in the small town of Geraldine, Alabama, with a population of fewer than a thousand people. Around 2012, Hody walked into the local pharmacy, Geraldine Drugs, and asked its owner and pharmacist, Brooke Walker, a simple question: โDo people ever come here to pick up their medications but leave without them because they can't afford to pay?โ She answered, โYes.โ
Hody then handed her $100 and asked her to use the money for people who couldn't afford their prescription medications. But he had two conditions: he didn't want to know whom he helped, and the people receiving the assistance were never supposed to know his name. If anyone asked where the money came from, Brooke was instructed to say only: โIt's a blessing from God.โ
The following month, Hody returned and brought another $100. Then he came back again. And again. Month after month, year after year, for nearly a decade.
He wasn't a millionaire. Hody was a farmer, a U.S. Air Force veteran, and a retiree. He lived primarily on his savings and Social Security benefits. Yet every month, he found that same $100 for someone who might need it more than he did.
The pharmacy used this small, secret fund to help people without insurance or those whose medications their insurance companies refused to cover. According to the pharmacist, the money was often enough to help approximately two people each month. Over the years, hundreds of people benefited.
Some received the essential medications they needed. Others had prescriptions paid for when their insurance wouldn't cover them. For one family, the assistance made it possible to purchase an expensive EpiPen for their child. And almost nobody knew whom to thank.
In late 2022, Hody's health deteriorated significantly. Because of a chronic lung condition, he could no longer make his regular visits to the pharmacy. That was when he finally had to reveal his secret to at least one person: his daughter, Tania. He told her about the $100 and asked her to continue delivering the money on his behalf.
On January 1, 2023, Hody Childress passed away. He was 80 years old. It was only at his funeral that his daughter told people what her father had been doing all those years. And the little town finally discovered who had been behind those mysterious acts of generosity.
People who had once received their medications despite not having enough money learned the name of their anonymous benefactor for the first time.
Then something happened that Hody would never live to see. Other people began coming into the pharmacy. Some brought $20, others brought $50, and some brought their own $100. Among them were neighbors, relatives, and even people whom Hody himself had once helped.
The pharmacy established the Hody Childress Fund so that his small tradition could continue paying for medications for people who couldn't afford them.
For nearly ten years, Hody did everything he could to make sure nobody knew his name. And after his death, that name became the name of a fund.
All he had done was leave a folded $100 bill on a pharmacy counter every month. But it turned out that he had left behind something far greater.
Sometimes kindness needs no cameras, no applause, and not even a thank-you. Sometimes it simply waits quietly behind a pharmacy counter, at the exact moment someone needs it most. โค๏ธ
Might I add an all-female firing squad?
Deny this jihadist killer the martyrโs reward he so desperately wants.
Tape the mouth. Dress him in pink. Put women on the firing squad. No slogans. No propaganda. No afterlife glory. Just justice for the 13 American soldiers he murdered while shouting โAllahu Akbar.โ
@PeteHegseth, make it so.
I hope you Muslims are reading this because the bombs you use are made with pig parts so youโre not getting your 72 virgins. Look it up if you donโt believe it. ๐๐๐