Some time ago, I issued a challenge to trolls (Cached version, scroll down some). I asked the Chickenchickenpussies that like to refer to us as Chickenhawks why it was necessary for me to enlist to attempt to prevent the demonization of our soldiers. I asked why I needed to become a soldier in order to keep America-Hating, Treasonous, Unpatriotic, Worthless, Marxist, “Anti-War,” Useless, Excrement Belching Traitors from smearing our military with relentless attacks against their integrity. Why must I serve in order to defend the honor of those who defend our way of life?

I said “Tell me why I should sit idly by and allow my friends to return home to be spat upon, shat upon, humiliated, denigrated, ridiculed, ostracized, exiled and forgotten, simply for having the courage to fight to defend our civilization, our way of life, and our country.”

Eventually, some putrid carcasses of despicable bile took up the challenge. FM’s blog got nuked, but you can view a cached version of the whole thread. Troll Challenge Part 2. I don’t feel like scouring the comments, but at one point one parasitic ghoul seemed to suggest that I had a non-argument because none of the troops were being spit upon.

Well, Via the Anti-Idiotarian Rottweiler:

We’re sure you remember CPL Joshua Sparling who, while recovering at Walter Reed, received one of those lovely sentiments that the “Troop-Supporting” Loony Left are so justly infamous for. In CPL Sparling’s case, it was the wish that he’d die rather than recover.

Well, CPL Sparling stubbornly refused to die, even though he did lose his leg defending the right of assnuggets like the postcard writer to wish death upon him.

He also went to the Mall to protest the protesters the other day and the “tolerant”, “troop-supporting” Left promptly rewarded this amputee veteran by spitting at him.

So, how’s that for a strawman argument then, you worthless socialist swine? I knew it would happen sooner or later. It’s the natural result of non-stop coverage of our guys “abusing detainees” and “Murdering civilians,” none of which actually even happened.

In conclusion; Congratulations, Maggots! Your relentless smear campaign has reached it’s logical and predicted conclusion. I hope you choke to death on your own vomit.

In a meeting President Bush had arranged with General David Petraeus, The President outlined a policy regarding the rules of engagement in Iraq:

I made it very clear, as did the Secretary, that our policy is going to be to protect our troops in Iraq. It makes sense that if somebody is trying to harm our troops, or stop us from achieving our goal, or killing innocent citizens in Iraq, that we will stop them.

Did you see it? “It makes sense that if somebody is trying to… stop us from achieving our goal… killing innocent citizens in Iraq, that we will stop them.”

When will Rethuglicans ever learn. What about the children?

The first time Frank J was caught indulging in Manatee Pr0n, his disgusting fetish was discovered by his very own wife, SarahK. At the time, they were not yet married, or even engaged. What follows is a true and accurate description of the event as it unfolded. It is not at all a Vicious Fabrication.

SarahK had just returned to see Frank J after spending the morning practicing at the local artillery range. She arrived at Frank’s house and entered.

“Frank! I’m here.” There was no response. Sarah thought for a moment. She was sure that Frank’s car was in the lot. She looked back out the window, and there it was.

“Frank! You honeysweetiesugarpiecookiemuffin is here. Come tell me how pretty I am.” Then she softly muttered to herself, “I’m so pretty.”

Still, Frank did not reply. She began to move through the domicile, calling for Frank every 15 seconds or so with a sing-songy voice. Finally, she opened the door to the bedroom, and there was Frank, furiously humping away on a manatee. It probably looked something like this, but there were no photos taken of this disgraceful moment.

Now, SarahK was furious. “FRANK!” You could hear the growl in her voice, “What the Hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Nothing, honey. Did I mention how pretty you look today?”

SarahK smacked him in the back of his head with an open hand.

“Owwwww!” He whined. “That hurts.”

“Good! Now get over here and explain to me what the Hell you think you were doing.”

“I can’t help it. I just have a thing for manatees. They just make me lose control.”

SarahK smacked him in the back of the head again.

“Owwwwwwww!”

“You’re an idiot. You have me, the lovely and beautiful SarahK. I’m pretty – and yet, here you are with a freakin’ sea cow! What is wrong with you?”

Frank said, “But… Manatees are the foundation for the mermaid myth. Mermaids are hot.”

SarahK smacked him in the back of his head again.

“Owwwww owwww owwwwwww! Please stop doing that.”

“You moron. Sailors were dehydrated, drunk, riddled with scurvy, and hadn’t seen an actual, real live woman for weeks on end. It makes sense that they would be hallucinating, but you…”

SarahK smacked him in the back of his head again. This time, Frank merely began to weep.

“Protein makes your brain grow. I will make you a Bacon®, bacon®, bacon® and bacon® sandwich, and maybe one day, if you eat enough bacon®, you won’t be a complete moron. You are never to do something like this ever again – and you have to marry me. The ring better be giagantic too. You hear me?!”

“But bacon is a root cause of terrorism,” still whining and weeping.

“Shut up! Eat your Bacon®!” SarahK smacked him in the back of his head again.

“Next time it will be a Harry Potter Book and not my hand hitting you in the head.”