The Siren Song – IOTW Report

The Siren Song

The siren is in Kyiv.

12 Comments on The Siren Song

  1. SINCE THE HIPPIE DAYS, I’VE ALWAYS KNOWN THAT, WHATEVER HAPPENS, THE JAMES TAYLOR TYPES NEVER STOP SMOKING THE DOPE AND PLAYING THE GUITARS, WHILE PATRIOTS TAKE THE RISK

    GOD LOVE ‘EM

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  2. Must be some jackass like Lindsey Graham in Kiev to hand them a check. That’s about the only time the sirens wail. Either then, or after the Kinzhals have already hit the targets.

    I notice strummin’ Sergei looks pretty relaxed. He’s probably more worried about the Ukie army press gangs. Although he could be Chet the gay douchebag from the embassy, in which case he’s more worried about the looming guitar string shortage.

    7
  3. Ha!
    Article says “Siren in Kyiv”.
    My phone glitched and I accidentally hit one of the ads that has Kamala’s face on it.
    Interesting choice for a siren, that cackle would send anyone into underground hiding.

    5
  4. Burrwegian
    AT 9:17 PM
    “Bah. Try Norways siren.”

    …I did, and it might be scary if it oscillated like an air raid warning. But I grew up in the Midwest where a steady tone was tornado warning, so you heard it like every other day in the Spring and it just kind of became background noise from over use.

    Also, on the rare occasions the wx man wasn’t being a spaz and there actually WAS a tornado, all a steady siren meant to ME was that my evening was shot because the wife would have all the kids, dogs, birds, etc. in the basement for the duration when I was older, and when I was younger it meant I was going to be dodging power lines with a wrench for turning off gas and water while yelling into dark and/or wrecked houses to see if anyone got skooshed, and call my hommies to help deal with it if so.

    My first structure fire came with a tornado warning in the middle of it which happily chose not to transit our jolly little hamlet on that occasion, but being new to this I wasn’t sure what the reaction was supposed to be when standing in the open in a pile of loose equipment and a couple dozen guys and all, so I rashly tugged my Chief’s sleeve and told him the County said there was a tornado. He looked at me like something the cat neglected to bury and said “SO? FIRE DON’T CARE” and left me to contemplate my meterorlogical cowardice under literal fire.

    Properly abashed, I slunk back over to my tarp to enjoy the mocking drumbeats of the raindrops on my brain bucket, like the copious tears of laughter squirting from the eyes of a God amused by how very obtuse one of his creations could actually be.

    I never gave a shit about a CD siren again.

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