I wish you know wingnuts had the balls to start your boogaloo, because then it'll be legal to do what I'd like to...
Oh, snoochie-booches. You can wear your signed MAGA hat and masturbate furiously over a copy of The Communist Manifesto whenever you want. It is still a free country!
You know what he is NOT going to do? 10 push ups or jog a mile. I get wanting to get some aggression out, but people who are terrible at violence acting as if they wish to engage in it wholesale always makes me just shake my head.
Battlemaster is your stereotypical basement dwelling gamma male whose desire to commit violence is only matched by his inability to commit such violence. It is a form of impotence.
That's always the way it is. Combat vets (and I don't count myself one since my activities consisted of sneaking around underwater rather than getting shot at on a personal level) always seem to just want to get left alone while those who've never had any real hardship seem to want engage in it all the time. The left usually engages in a taunt-run away-cry when caught and beaten routine. If they continue pushing those who know violence hrough the door of deciding they need to take out the trash, the left will learn about violence right quick
The funny part is, they often run straight to the police...even in situations where they might be rioting about the police.
Tommy by Rudyard Kipling always comes to mind. Almost 130 years old and it still rings true.
I went into a public 'ouse to get a pint o' beer,
The publican 'e up an' sez, " We serve no red-coats here."
The girls be'ind the bar they laughed an' giggled fit to die,
I outs into the street again an' to myself sez I:
O it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' " Tommy, go away " ;
But it's " Thank you, Mister Atkins," when the band begins to play
The band begins to play, my boys, the band begins to play,
O it's " Thank you, Mister Atkins," when the band begins to play.
I went into a theatre as sober as could be,
They gave a drunk civilian room, but 'adn't none for me;
They sent me to the gallery or round the music-'alls,
But when it comes to fightin', Lord! they'll shove me in the stalls!
For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' " Tommy, wait outside ";
But it's " Special train for Atkins " when the trooper's on the tide
The troopship's on the tide, my boys, the troopship's on the tide,
O it's " Special train for Atkins " when the trooper's on the tide.
Yes, makin' mock o' uniforms that guard you while you sleep
Is cheaper than them uniforms, an' they're starvation cheap.
An' hustlin' drunken soldiers when they're goin' large a bit
Is five times better business than paradin' in full kit.
Then it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an` Tommy, 'ow's yer soul? "
But it's " Thin red line of 'eroes " when the drums begin to roll
The drums begin to roll, my boys, the drums begin to roll,
O it's " Thin red line of 'eroes, " when the drums begin to roll.
We aren't no thin red 'eroes, nor we aren't no blackguards too,
But single men in barricks, most remarkable like you;
An' if sometimes our conduck isn't all your fancy paints,
Why, single men in barricks don't grow into plaster saints;
While it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an` Tommy, fall be'ind,"
But it's " Please to walk in front, sir," when there's trouble in the wind
There's trouble in the wind, my boys, there's trouble in the wind,
O it's " Please to walk in front, sir," when there's trouble in the wind.
You talk o' better food for us, an' schools, an' fires, an' all:
We'll wait for extry rations if you treat us rational.
Don't mess about the cook-room slops, but prove it to our face
The Widow's Uniform is not the soldier-man's disgrace.
For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an` Chuck him out, the brute! "
But it's " Saviour of 'is country " when the guns begin to shoot;
An' it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' anything you please;
An 'Tommy ain't a bloomin' fool - you bet that Tommy sees!