Glibertarians.com 2019 Archive

Author: wchipperdove

  • ‘Twas the Night Before Glib-Mas

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    ‘Twas the night before Glib-Mas, and, purged of endorphins,
    Not a creature was stirring – not even the orphans.
    Booby traps and alarms were set, in fear
    That old rapist STEVE SMITH might decide to appear.

    The Glib Ones were nestled, each snug in their bunk,
    Each Glib Girl and Anarchist, and reg’lar old punk.
    Both I and my mistress, who looked really super,
    Were succumbing to an alcoholic stupor.

    When, all of a sudden, ere I could rebuke,
    Our Glib-house was hit with the force of a nuke!
    (I exaggerate, of course, but still, I was shook up
    And upset at the interruption of my hook-up.)

    I ran to the window and threw open the pane.
    Dark clouds had gathered, the moonlight did wane –
    And above the night wind’s blistering howl,
    I heard a voice; no, it was more of a growl:

    “ALL OF YOU TROLLS, BE READY FOR TAKEOFF!
    STEVE SMITH GO IN HERE, THEN WE WILL MAKE OFF
    WITH THEIR GIFTS AND PRESENTS AND CHRISTMAS BOOTY –
    ALL TROLL FLIGHT CREWS ATTEND TO YOUR DUTY!”

    I cowered in fear, for from childhood I knew
    Of the legend of STEVE SMITH and his murderous crew –
    Eight ugly trolls pulled his magical sled;
    The very sight of them filled grown men with dread.

    I stood frozen in fear, stuck right to the floor
    And heard massive footprints approaching my door;
    Then, at the last moment, dived back of a chair –
    My door was kicked open, and then, standing there

    Was STEVE SMITH, in all of his horrible glory,
    His dank body hair matted and gory.
    He possessed two incredibly bloodshot eyes;
    Oh, and a phallus of enormous size.

    The creature turned and gave me a wink,
    And just as I was beginning to think
    That I was a goner, now it appeared
    Perhaps things would not be quite as I feared.

    Instead, he turned his attention to see
    All of the Glib-gifts under the tree.
    Then it hit me like a clap of thunder –
    His purpose and intention to plunder!

    All the things we had bought, he stuffed into a sack,
    Our unopened presents, he proceeded to pack.
    All of the firearms, sex toys, and lube,
    Our home-brew kits, our blow-up dolls – hey, rube!

    This was our whole holiday he was stealing,
    But as I stood there, I had the feeling
    That if I tried to stop him, he’d pound me, I knew
    Into a greasy little pile of goo.

    So while I stood cowering, tame as a mouse,
    The creature went all about the house
    Taking all that he wanted; why, he even took
    Every Ayn Rand and Hayek and Mises book.

    When he was finally done, he heaved a great sigh,
    And again fixed me with a bloodshot eye.
    Though the beast seemed to be in a jovial mood
    I had only one thought: Holy crap, I am screwed.

    But as I stood there trembling, my mouth agape,
    The monster assured me: “DON’T WORRY, NO RAPE –
    STEVE SMITH EXHAUSTED AFTER LONG NIGHT OF THEFT.
    ALMOST FEEL SORRY, YOU HAVE NOTHING LEFT.

    BUT REMEMBER THIS: GLIB-MAS NOT ABOUT EARTHLY THINGS
    BUT FREEDOM AND ALL THE JOY THAT IT BRINGS.”
    With that he stepped out, with his large pack fumbling,
    To his sled and his slave-trolls all a-grumbling.

    Within moments the over-burdened sleigh
    Rose into the sky, and then away –
    Leaving only a horrible stink.
    “No one will believe this,” I started to think.

    I was up the rest of the night explaining;
    I really don’t think I deserved the caning.
    Ah, well. As STEVE SMITH said, as he vanished from sight,
    “MERRY GLIB-MAS TO ALL! AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT!”

     

     

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  • The NSA Reaches Out to Glibertarians

    NSA Headquarters at Fort George Meade, Maryland.

     

    Greetings, Glibertarians!

    I’m Michael T. Hunte, junior investigative agent with the National Security Administration.

    On behalf of the NSA, allow me to address you in the spirit of friendship and cooperation which our republic holds so dear. As your site’s designated Security Representative and Advisor, it is my duty, but also my pleasure, to greet you in the proper manner outlined in our organization’s recent Community Outreach Program, also known internally as Operation Good Neighbor.

    Please don’t let the officious nomenclature fool you! This is simply our way of saying ‘Hello!’ to various chat groups, website memberships, and blog communities that catch our interest over the normal course of fulfilling our duties.
    Now, don’t get yourself all worked up over NSA taking an interest in your charming little website. Why, the past few months I’ve spent reading through many of your daily posts have been quite pleasurable. I’ve learned an awful lot about so many subjects of interest to your regular members, from firearm maintenance to craft beers, Mormonism to spatchcocking. I especially love the humor that your members generally employ – the many Monty Python references, the good-natured ribbing over grammatical errors. And that Steve Smith character – I wouldn’t want to meet him in a dark alley!

    That’s why I feel privileged to be your website’s personal Representative. I feel like I already know so many of you already, even though you’ve been nothing more than i.p. addresses and blips on a drone pilot’s screen to me previously. Let’s face it, in the course of my duties, I get to see the good and the bad – all of you who pick your noses surreptitiously while watching pornographic videos, for example. Do not like, as the kids say! But, it’s not all bad. Gary M., I’m glad you finally had that wart removed… that sucker was getting huge!

    In that spirit, I want us to have a closer working relationship. The NSA isn’t just a bunch of soulless, faceless badguys listening to you make mousey sounds while you have sexual relations in the ‘privacy’ of your bedroom. It’s that, sure, but so much more also!

    Totes not us, Glibs. These guys are CIA.

    We respect your membership’s adherence to the Constitution, an allegiance that, I promise you, our organization shares. And we work hard to protect our Constitutional Republic against enemies, both foreign and domestic. But, we need your cooperation!

    I want you Glibertarians to feel free to come to me with any concerns you might have concerning our nation’s freedom, and the selfless protecting of same. You’ve heard the phrase, ‘See something, say something’? Well, I want you to know, I’m here to listen to any of your concerns. Any time, day or night, you can come to me with any troublesome information you might have regarding the safety of our beloved Republic.

    You know, some in my organization aren’t quite ‘down’ with Constitutional protections the way you Glibs are. We need to bring those Glibbers to heel, some of them say. Well, I just look them right in the eye and I dare them to lay a finger on this fine website and its membership! As your NSA Representative, I take my role very seriously, and I want you to know that I’m on your side.

    Mike Hunte is here for you. Mike Hunte is open and ready for whatever you’ve got, my friends. Got some pent-up aggression and need a handy but private outlet? Well, you just lay it all on Mike Hunte, Mister! Mike Hunte isn’t afraid to take a pounding, believe you me.

    Mike Hunte is fair and open to all. Why, just the other day, my pet Yorkie, who my family calls York Hunte, got up on the bed (she knows she’s not supposed to!) and, well, left a piddle behind. I looked at my wife and said, “Look what York Hunte did! York Hunte deserves a good beating!” But don’t worry. My wife Madchek Hunte (she’s from a former Soviet country, but don’t worry, she’s been thoroughly vetted!) told me that the little darling was sorry and deserved to be loved on rather than punished. Well, how could I say no to that? I ended up giving the little critter a kiss on the nose.

     

    The other night my daughter Emily, whom we all call Tinkerbelle, or Tink Hunte, came home late after a ball game. She was having a dustup with her beau, and boy, was she sore! She read him the riot act – how can he treat Tink Hunte that way? Doesn’t he know what a precious treasure Tink Hunte is? She really had that boy against the wall until I thought I ought to step in to cool things down a bit. Now, I dearly love Tink Hunte, but she was so hot that I was afraid she was gonna hurt that fella. Well, pretty soon the two youngsters made up, thank goodness, because who can say no to sweet Tink Hunte?

     

    It’s so cute that you people think this will help.

    So you see, Glibs, I’m in your corner. I’m also in your bathroom, your kitchen, your automobile, your electronic devices. Should you feel the need to reach out, just speak your peace: the NSA is always within earshot.

    Take care, fellow citizens, and I shall certainly see you later.

    Excelsior!

    Michael Hunte
    Junior Agent
    National Security Agency