Rule 5 Friday: Save Page 3

Earlier this week, intrepid blogger Robert Stacy McCain shared with us a tragic story from the UK. Seems that feminists have declared war on the Page 3 Girl, the ubiquitous topless buxom model featured on the same-titled page of The Sun (sorry if my grammar is a bit off there, but just typing topless and buxom in the same sentence is a bit…distracting).

20130315-235602.jpgPictured, L-R: Haggard, disheveled woman without positive body image strives to bar men, lesbians from enjoying the fine female form; older feminist who tried this before whilst a lefty member of Parliament.

That said, as soon as this fact was noted this week, it made the choice of topic for a Rule 5 Friday (now Saturday as I type this) an easy one. Join us below the fold for some of the finest women the UK has sent our way. Obviously, since we’re discussing buxom and topless, NSFW applies.

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A Year Without Andrew

A year ago today, about 7:50 AM MT. I was sitting in my car, in front of my son’s school, waiting to stand in line with him. It’s a nice place, one that welcomes parents in line to say the Pledge of Allegiance and the Lord’s Prayer. The early arrival gave me enough time to check my Twitter feed.

And in a few seconds, I was floored. Because it was clear that Andrew Breitbart had died.
I followed Andrew on Twitter…well, mostly. His was the first account that I ever invoked the “block retweets” capability in Twitter. Because Andrew was a prolific re-tweeter of all of the vitriol he received, and of some epic takedowns of random jobbers and media blowhards.

I watched his speeches, most of all because he got it. That fighting for a handful of votes in Washington pales in comparison to the greater fight, over our culture. That cowering in our beliefs is a sure way to defeat in that lesser battle. And his humor, his in-your-face approach in dealing with the self-described arbiters of truth, that captured me.

And I sat down to read Righteous Indignation. A really wonderful tale of how a man found conservatism in the front seat of a delivery car. How making the countercultural choice in a liberal hotbed could only be conservatism.

I cried that morning, reading that Twitter stream. Said a prayer for Andrew, for his wife, his kids – we’re about the same age, so I felt a simpatico with him. Said a prayer for us, those who had lost his burning flame at the tip of the spear. Joined in the #DJBreitbart effort on Twitter. And prayed that I could raise my voice with one-fifth the strength of Andrew.

I never met you in person, but I miss you so much.