SanFrancisco's homeless problem is awful — partly because government doesn't enforce basic laws. Last year, there were more than 30,000 car break-ins in SF and police made an arrest in less than 2 percent of cases: #SanFrancisco #Homeless pic.twitter.com/GgcI7PerJW
— John Stossel (@JohnStossel) May 5, 2019
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It is my sincere desire to provide readers of this site with the best unbiased information available, and a forum where it can be discussed openly, as our Founders intended. But it is not easy nor inexpensive to do so, especially when those who wish to prevent us from making the truth known, attack us without mercy on all fronts on a daily basis. So each time you visit the site, I would ask that you consider the value that you receive and have received from The Burning Platform and the community of which you are a vital part. I can't do it all alone, and I need your help and support to keep it alive. Please consider contributing an amount commensurate to the value that you receive from this site and community, or even by becoming a sustaining supporter through periodic contributions. [Burning Platform LLC - PO Box 1520 Kulpsville, PA 19443] or Paypal
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Wait to you The homeless problem in LA. Last year I had to go near the homeless as they were camping out on the streets .Block after block. Street after street. Not sure how many homeless but It looked like thousands were out there.
A seismic 10 earthquake will be a blessing.
Go Democrats !!!
This is also an example of the 2nd civil war in real time, the local government refuses to enforce codes, laws, creates a health and public nuisance, and orders the police to ignore crimes and does not prosecute criminals who are caught. You can’t trust the police, they obey their elected liberal socialist masters. Why anyone would like in CA is beyond comprehension.
shitholes:
san diego
los angeles
san francisco
portland
seattle
vancouver bc
don’t notice any pattern…
Obviously, San Francisco needs to hire H-1B visa holders from India and illegal alien Hispanics to replace their homeless people.
Their street-shitting problem will probably get worse, though.
I was born in Marin CA 1967 across the Bay Bridge from SF. With logic, reasoning and common sense I left. With all the 60’s, 70’s and libitard de funk……They made their bed and can now sleep in it!!!! CA deserves what it created!!!
I hate it when I lose a good poem. Makes me want to suck my own dick.
My first post on TBP was about San Franshitsco’s sidewalk IEDs.
It’s what inspired my moniker.
It was a poem. Can’t find it. So here’s this:
The Burning Bag
The Shit has always been real,
people have always been for sale.
Doesn’t matter how you feel,
because winners tell the tale.
It won’t matter how fast you run;
there is nowhere left to hide.
Nobody has a big enough gun
to keep everyone on their side.
Everybody zeroed in somebody’s scope,
everybody safe in their bulletproof plan.
Everybody is losing their hope,
while waiting for a better man.
On our doorstep, a burning bag
of shit that used to be our flag.
An Iambic Octameter Sonnet. 2 less than Shakesplurge’s
Drunk, even.
Here in Portland the liberals are oblivious to the squalor overtaking the city. No matter how many tents go up along the freeway and panhandlers fill downtown, everything is perfect in their progressive Mecca. That is until their kid steps on a needle in the park, or their Volvo gets broken into in broad daylight, or a homeless shelter is planned on their block. Then they might notice the homeless problem.
But hey, a new coffee house opened in the neighborhood and have you tried the IPA at the brewpub down the street, so it’s all good.
Hey Tip
I’m 66.6. and I live across the river. I’m rehabbing my left leg after imputing idiot blessings upon it twice in the last year.
July 2018: softball game collision at home plate. two fractured metatarsals; ruptured Achilles Tendon; all ankle ligaments stretched (sprained).
January 2019: bicycle wreck (1st day I was cleared for ‘moderate’ exercise after Achilles surgery to reconnect with cadaver tendon). Torn ACL; torn meniscus.
I’ve been in a cast or brace for 22 of the last 44 weeks and I needed exercise to rebuild my non-existent left calf. So I hiked up Hamilton mountain today. I didn’t see a lot of people, though I saw a representative sampling of all ages – of people who liked the outdoors enough ascend 3,000 ft in 3 miles. Maybe 20 total, in 2-1/2 hours up and back down.
Not one person under 40 made eye contact with me. Not one under 50 said hello to me. We all passed within 6 inches of each other on a narrow steep trail.
So I’m thinking, because I’m an old white guy, that I’m shit on a lot of people’s sidewalk.
And they think it’s all good.
That was a prompt to answer an unasked question.
“Do I no longer feel “at home” (= homeless) because I am seen by those who inherit what I helped build as a piece of shit…?”
…while complaining about the truly homeless who shit whenever, wherever, because they’ve no place to wipe and flush in private. I’ve been there. In my youth.
Not jumping on you, just axin’. Just wondering.
Will it be all good when youth don’t even see you because their world doesn’t have any room to pass you without ignoring you?
That was a rude thing to do when I was young.
“That was a rude thing to do when I was young.”
I worked in a ‘jungle’ for a couple a/3 yrs. Ran a band saw that fed a crew of 22 on a pork loin boining crew for a Japanese contract. Got ‘fired’ 7 times in 11 months-some resulting in back pay for 3 day to two week suspensions. Company was trying to bust the union, nothing to me as I would party till 2am and clock in at 4:30…….long story, I’ll get to the point.
My position required a ‘let-out’ man to keep production going. As usual, I would need to crap and one morning the Stupervisor ignored me, so I shut the saw off and headed upstairs to the breakroom to take care of biness. Back then, they had a 5 lb. coffee can for cig butts. The Stupervisor followed me up, and flung open the crapper door just as I was sittin down. Gave me a skowl, and headed out. I KNEW he was going for the steward to ‘write me up again’……insubordinate or walkin off the job.
So, I pulled my britches up, stepped out and grabbed the coffee can, dumped the butts, then took a crap in the coffee can. Took it downstairs with me, set it on the Stupervisors desk in his office (he had headed over to the main plant building to get the steward). Before he returned, the USDA inspector entered the warehouse for one of his periodic/daily inspections. He went in the office, smelled/saw the can of human feces, (which had to have been carried thru production area) came out of the office mad as hell, pulling a red tag out, went to the entry door and tagged the entire 3 story whse building we had the Jap loin bonin crew in (it was called ‘the animal house’).
That Stupervisor ignoring my call for a let out man resulted in the whole building having to be steam cleaned. Probably cost the company at LEAST a hundred grand; and I never heard ANYTHING about a ‘write-up’……Next time I hollered for a let-out man, the Stupervisor jogged over to my saw, and tried to operate it himself…..
annuit coeptis novus ordo seclorum
We’re a band of Brothers.
Got “Removed” from Federal service last summer, after my 3rd suspension for “Conduct Unbecoming.”
It was Holy Roller month, the “Christian Culture Society’s” turn to post propaganda EVERYWHERE in the building. Couldn’t walk down any aisle anywhere without seeing a 2’x3′ poster featuring an angry face and the heading, “Standing Firm in Christ!” I knew who they were standing against, everywhere I went.
So I found the exact font and size to glue an undetectable overlay on their posters. I changed them to read “Stroking Firm in Christ!”
It was two weeks before anyone complained. Every finger instantly pointed at me.
The Federal Judge who heard my appeal was an old, ugly, obese, nigger lesbian teleconferencing into the hearing from Berkley. You know what happened.
The instant she heard my southern accent she screamed, “If’n yo grate, grate, granpappy hada gibben sumuh his creem to my grate, grate granigger, I wouldn’t bees suh fukin’ ugly!”
When my attorney told me, a month before the hearing, “Her name is Lunell Anderson, a she’s staying in her office in Berkley, I KNEW I was fucked.
After we exited the hearing, my attorney’s first words were, “You’re fucked.”
COMING SOON: United Shits of Amerika
That does not look like a sidewalk. Looks like breakfast for AC and crap your hands.