Been keepin' busy over here, I don't have a story to tie all these pictures together, but sometimes music will provide a hook to hang them on.
I have a catalpa tree in my backyard. Every year sphinx moth caterpillars hatch from eggs laid on the underside of the leaves and consume every leaf they can get to. Every year I spray malathion on the underside of the leaves my sprayer can reach, thereby saving the lower leaves on the tree. Every year the Springidae eat all the upper leaves down to the nub. Then, with luck, if the tree survives, it regrows its leaves and the stinkin' caterpillars do not return.
You can see that the leaves closest to the ground are larger than the new ones sprouting from the upper limbs. The thing is, every year I fight to keep that tree alive because I like it and because I am at war with those caterpillars. But since I really like working catalpa wood so much perhaps I should just let nature run its course and end up with a ton of nice, aromatic wood to work with.
That is a bowl I turned last week using some catalpa wood I got a couple of years ago - it really is nice to work with, even if the aroma is a bit, shall we say, distinct. Not in a bad way, just that you know when you have been working with it.
We have been getting some weather - shocking, right?
That's our sunset on the 25th.
A storm blew in the other evening and looked like this:
And like this:
Pretty dramatic stuff, with lightning, thunder, flash floods, the works.
As for being productive, last week my productivity was thwarted:
I used black locust wood for that piece - a wood favored by boat builders far and wide.
I must say I listened to a lot of bad versions of that dance before remembering that Lenny was the man. It requires a quick tempo and emphatic brass - ferners don't get it.
"[Amazon] Prime shoppers who know exactly which products they buy regularly should check out Amazon’s Dash Buttons. For $4.99, you get a Wi-Fi-enabled gizmo that places orders for you. For example, you can buy the Tide Dash Button and attach it to your washing machine. When you’re running low on laundry pods, just push the button, and your order is placed on Amazon.
You get a $4.99 statement credit for each Dash Button the first time you press it, essentially making the button free. Dash Buttons are available for household items, health and personal care products, pet supplies, groceries, and kids’ and baby needs."
I know, right? Just this morning I noticed Steven Green write that Trump should declassify the FISA application at once because people will be shocked by what's in it. I thought of collecting bookmarks for all the pieces I read day to day from people presuming to tell Trump what he must do. But then I'd have a collection of bookmarks for articles that nobody reads. Including me.
It's worse than than mere suggestions. From Uber drivers to university professors and the massive number of attorneys at the capitol all think they should be in charge but none of them are worse than journalists.
Innocent journalists just doing their jobs asking the hard questions?
They work in government buildings and we pay for it. They walk around the building, whichever it happens to be, and chat up the officials.
They do? So?
I feel it shouldn't be that way. I feel they're not entitled to free office space and easy breezy access to government officials, taking their time like that, using the officials for themselves. They should rent their own space and access to officials should be formal.
Why do you feel that way?
Because a long time ago when I worked for President Reagan I felt back then, and still do actually, that you should never speak off the record because if you don't want to talk about something then just shut up. Then this dude named William Safire asked me about a sensitive diplomatic matter in a way that suggested he was misinformed. I told him to get himself better background, and he was all, f that, just answer my question. And I was all, if I did answer your question then you'd be worse informed based on what you have wrong, and you'd go off and publish nonsense that's dangerously wrong so I told him to just piss right along and after that incident I refused to talk to him anymore. Ever. Because of his obnoxious attitude. Because I didn't care for journalists to be setting the agenda like that. And I felt like he didn't have the right to use my time like that. And now I feel the same way about the CNN reporter being banned from the White House for being obnoxious and rude, asking ridiculous unimportant side-questions with no relevance whatsoever at an important event with serious consequences.
I didn't know your answer would be this long. I have to go load the dishwasher.
I think government officials should decide to whom they choose to respond and under what circumstances. And they should be able to base this on things like past coverage or even security concerns.
But first I have to unload it from two weeks ago.
Yes! Including real espionage. Suppose the official had information that a journalist was an agent of a hostile foreign power. There's be good reason to keep that journalist out of government buildings.
I shouldn't have let the housekeeper go. She caught me up once a week.
I'm constantly being told by people who know that there are a whole lot of people walking around the White House wearing wires, including reporters. Don't you think that should be stopped?
Interesting. I didn't realize you have so many feelings. I gotta go.
Fine! I have more to say. About who should do all the choosing about who gets to interview government officials, especially the president, and where, and when. I'll write all that down and get these feeling out of me.
I wonder why he didn't say simply that he'd rather not have stupid little bitches barking irrelevant questions inappropriately as if their trivialities are the things that matter and not the monumental momentous events at hand. Then their reporting reflects their inane obsessions. As he spoke I recalled Bush II being harassed by big fat old ugly hag, a witch straight out of MaBeth, Helen Thomas, who held a front row seat and always asked the same stupid question about Iraq war each press conference. The same question over and over, never accepting the answer and ignoring the presentation at hand. They have their own agendas in conflict with the people they cover and don't deserve the honor of something so important as covering the president of the United States. They deserve, they earn, being treated as cockroaches.
So you ask yourself why is old Trooper posting up a storm this lazy Sunday afternoon?
You see the wife went off with her girlfriends to enjoy a lunch and a get together. They periodically do it and I have posted about it over the years. They all grew up together in Midwood on Avenue M and like to get together at least twice a year. Normally I am the only dude around because most of them are divorced or widows or their guys don't like the other women and refuse to go. But this time I had to pass as I am not feeling all that well and didn't want to drive and eat outside food.
They are out at an Italian joint in Bay Ridge and I am chilling. A few posts during the heat of the day. Then a little light gardening. Clipping the roses and watering. Then I will throw a steak on the grill and chill-lax.
So now every time I go to post something there is a big warning in red above the dashboard.
"Someone has tried to use your password to get access to your account."
It seems someone in Japan was tried to access my account and wants to post here under the name Trooper York. Or at least they are trying to get my g-mail account. I don't understand why. What do I have to offer Japanese people?
I don't fish so I don't have any sushi. I don't drink Saki because I don't do alcohol anymore. I don't care if Godzilla is coming. So what do they want with me.
It's almost like we share some interests in common or something.
I just now finished studying the 25th episode of the story about Sinuhe. It's done now.
This was starting to resemble my last year of university. They kept finding requirements I needed to graduate, this class, then that class, then one last requirement, for awhile there I thought that I'd never get finished for administrators kept moving the goalpost.
And this professor finds all kind of errors made by ancient scribes by comparing sources and concentrating on difficult spots. So I'm counting along and episodes begin having multiple parts, the twenty-fourth episode had five segments, like five walls of text, and worse than that, there are two twenty-fourth episodes, erroneously.
Yeah. I said erroneously.
Because that's what the professor says about all the mistakes the scribes made thousands of years ago.
And those guys were using scritchy-scratchy craptastic paper made from reeds, and their pens and ink totally sucked. What a mess. Ink all over the place.
"Hey you wanna go to Walmart and buy some new pens?"
"Nah, I'll just go down to river, pluck a few reeds and smash the ends with a rock to form fibrous bristles and use them for brushes. And I'll use this charcoal and water for ink."
"Sheesh. No wonder your handwriting looks like crap."
I'm combing this book tediously. It's getting a serious workout. And I mean serious. Nobody studies a book this thoroughly. Nobody. Nobody literally rakes every single symbol. Showing it is the same thing as doing it, that is, making the thing to show, is the raking. Instead of putting it in a notebook I put it in a Photoshop transparency layer. This is over 500 transparencies in a stack like a ream of paper. Some layers have only a single mark, like an apostrophe. Displaying the layers is like playing chords on a piano. Exactly like that.
Except you'd need twenty-five fingers.
You've seen the videos of Bach concerto electronically displayed with keys going boop boop boop, and other chords sustained like h-u-u-u-u-u-u-m-m-m. The Photoshop transparency layers running in sequence are the same thing. Some transparency layers are partially opaque blocking out portions of layers beneath them in the stack. Some layers run for 25 frames while other sets speed by. Other frames hold for a few hundred frames. And those partially opaque layers are themselves played like piano chords, switching off from one to another. It's fun!
There are columns of text and each symbol has its own little world; its pronunciation, its usefulness in grammar, its place and function in a sentence. It can mean a sound or it can mean an idea, or it can clarify the preceding sounds and ideas immediately in front of it. So a lot of the symbols are not spoken. They're not part of the translation that way, except to keep you on track.
So every single symbol is examined for its properties. To see how they're used. To see how the translator gets English from that.
The whole time I'm thinking, man, being a scribe must have really messed with their heads. They're compelled to use so many puns, and I can see how this would infect their personal speech such that their jokes among themselves would be vasty different from the population that didn't write. Other writers would know what is so funny. They could appreciate the source of the humor.
Then, conversely, their metaphors are blown by the writing. Penetrating this is where the professors are really helpful.
I'm a literalist. Sinuhe is talking about being set up with a tomb. He's explaining where it is placed, on the plateau, while the fields that support the temple that goes with the tomb are nearby, lower and closer to the Nile, in front of the harbor. His land is a basin that gets flooded. He's been speaking about ships the whole time, so central to life at the edge of the Nile, So when he finishes by saying he has the blessing of the king until the day of mooring has come, he was just talking about a harbor. We have the picture of land near the Nile. But "mooring" is euphemism for dying, with life as a voyage the metaphor. If I was reading without the professor's help then I'd miss that. Except for the euphemism is self-exploding by the symbol for death with the determinatives. Imagine speaking in metaphors and expressing euphemisms within them, then showing the keys to the metaphor in symbols at the end of it.
It's this thing:
It's in the unclassified sign section for things that are too hard to draw. It's a man tipping over. It's the last word in the story. It means "death."
The guy writes a story in couplets with a kind of meter. Like Shakespeare.
Duh-duh, duh-duh, duh-duh.
Duh-duh, duh-duh, duh-duh.
Duh-duh, duh-duh, duh-diddly-duh
Duh-duh, duh-duh, duh-duh.
And the whole thing goes like that, on and on and on, with occasional breaks in meter for relief.
And after all that fear and loathing in Lisht, all that escaping to the Asiatics, all the trial and tribulation, rearing of family and estate, then abandoning it all to return to the court, after all the good living and at the epitome of wealth, the last word of the work is "death." That clarifies the words that precede it, clarify the words that make euphemism so that the actual subject isn't spoken directly. The euphemism is carefully spelled out. Then its meaning shown. It's weird.
It would be like me telling you the early cigarette commercials led us ashtray. Then put a symbol for traffic sign that reads "WRONG WAY" at the end of it, and there goes my finely crafted pun.
In writing, all your jokes are explained, By the requirements of writing the joke.
The book does not come with a sign list. And that's a problem.
JSesh has an extensive sign list. It's impressive. But they don't match exactly the shapes in the book. I also have James Hoch's sign list to help. I'm using all of them at once. I have an impressive PDF Egyptian dictionary with every symbol there is. There is also online help. There are standard lists all over the place. But I cannot find this symbol Allen uses quite a lot.
It looks like a hook on the end of a string. Here it is right in the middle.
I drew that. Logically, it'd be listed under "Rope, fiber, baskets and bags." That category has a lot of random lines and weird shapes, like these.
Nope. And these things all mean something.
Maybe it is hook on a string, with emphasis on hook. Maybe its in the category of "Warfare, hunting, Butchery." That category also has a lot of weird random shapes that don't match anything logical. Like these: String for bows.
Nope.
Maybe it not something so harsh as warfare and butchering, Maybe some other profession. Maybe it's in the category for "Agriculture, Crafts and Professions." That category has wild illogical shapes all over, like these inexplicable items:
Maybe it's in unclassified. The oddness never stops.
Maybe it's in catchall category "Strokes," crazy crap people just made up.
"Trees and Plants" has things that don't even look like anything seen in nature.
Maybe it's there. Bulbs with roots, weird fruit. Things definitely not seen at the grocery store.
"Parts of Mammals has shapes not seen on any animal. Like these.
And these:
I'm sick and tired of looking for this stupid shape. I don't know what it is, and I don't know what sound it represents. Every time it's used, it's surrounding is not helpful. It cannot be reverse engineered. So far. If it's a logographic symbol, I don't know what it represents. It's bumming me out.
The universal computer font for Egyptian hieroglyphs does not have it. Other fonts online do not have it. Where Allen came up with this piece of shit symbol to vex us is beyond me. If it's hieratic, I cannot find it. Here's a million of 'em. Nothing matches.
Maybe it's in "Sky Earth and Water." That category has bizarre shapes and patterns in it that don't have anything to do with sky, earth or water. Face it, Egyptians were always out of the minds. This much is clear by their extensive semiotic record.
Do these symbols appear to have anything to do with the "Parts of the Human Body"?
These are supposed to be toes.
Wtf?
My fishhook on a line could be anywhere!
There are thousands upon thousands of symbols. My eyeballs hurt from scanning all of them, and repeatedly, to no avail.
I'm starting to really hate this guy.
And when I do find this thing, I'm going to crap a brick.
And throw it at someone.
It's not very often I get stumped like this, but this time I'm genuinely stopped.
And it PISSES me off.
I find it better to simply list everything I can find for each sign then examine what the translators used for their English version.
Every single individual sign in the whole book. And it turns out very similar to watching videos of songs translated into ASL. Examination at the granular level. You end up asking, "Why did you leave this out? And why leave out that? Why doesn't your translation include this here or that there?" And where in the heck did you come up with this and with that?" Translators take a great deal of creative license.
This guy claims there is some type of collusion between governmental entities shortchanging traditional fathers. We have California fam here, you know what this fella is talking about, or is he smoking some of that legal weed they have over there now?
Here is a mother daughter whose those girls. The Mom is someone you can lose your head over and the baby grew up to star in one of the longest running TV shows of all time. Even though their time together was short the daughter never thought of herself as special or of being a victim of life's circumstances. She overcame adversity to forge a long and very successful career in a show that I never watch.
These days I have to be careful about what I eat and what I drink. No salt. No alcohol. The wife can't have gluten or dairy. So all of those post about the restaurants we would go to is a thing of the past.
Now my cardiologist is a guinea and he knows what's what. He tells me that generally I have to be strict but once a month I can have a drink or something a little salty. You see we don't eat out because it is very hard to find gluten free alternatives. So the wife gets this app that list all the gluten free joints within five miles of where we might be. That really worked out for us tonight.
We had to go to our new favorite place "U Break I Fix." It is a new chain that fixes electronics. Ipads. Ipods. Computers. Basically anything with a plug. We brought a couple of things that were so easy to fix that the guy didn't even charge us. Today we brought a track pad mouse for an Mac computer. The guy fixed it one two three and we were good to go. We step outside and decide we want to eat out and check out the gluten free app. Low and behold we are standing right in front of the first thing on the screen. Monaghan's Irish Pub.
Wilbur Ross is there with him and so is his daughter. Workforce development roundtable? Sounds dreadful. Bush II would sound like "we gotta do this, we gotta do that, you're gonna hafta do this and do that, hafta do this, that and these, gonna hafta haft hafta." And Obama would sound like "Erglesss der tap sssstererle ssssesssssosssssicsssssss tap tap tap sssscccisssorssss tap disssscushionsssss." *adjusts hearing aid* While Trump is surprisingly glibly engaging. In a rattle-trap way. I didn't want to watch but I must admit he is fascinating to observe, even as he mostly brags of his accomplishments and all the fabulous people he meets and the great relationships he has with other world principals, and then crosses his arms and squeezes himself inside his suit, as people do when they're blocking, but he does as sort of squeezing his head on top of his torso still expounding but now from atop his own torqued up belted bulk. And I'm sitting here going, "why does he do that? Containing heartburn or what?" Not in thrall but riveted by fascination. Did I hear him say China put 50% tariffs on X then the next moment it's 15% tariffs on X? I don't know. I don't care. The point of unbalanced tariffs is made and it's fascinating hearing him ad lib like this. His daughter much less so. Less ease with her. She's stilted and formal and cautious in comparison.
Watch awhile and see what I mean.
I cannot get up fast enough to answer the door for an Amazon delivery. And I tried. I prepared. I look online. The map shows that means they're near. Fast as my body goes, with intention to meet them downstairs and outside, I grab my pants, grab my socks, shove my feet into shoes knock knock knock "Coming!" Tie my shoelace fast as shoelaces tie. Gone. Box on the floor. "T-H-A--A-A-N-K-Y-O-O-O-U" into the long spacious echoing empty hallway.
Meanwhile, Trump has already left an important meeting with Juncker, the head of the European Union having arrived at a trade deal that improves the U.S. position with Europe. The ideal is no tariffs and no subsidies that distort free market trade. He's said this repeatedly. And it sounds silly to lifelong bureaucrat's ears. To get to this point Trump had to threaten with disruptive tariffs, and mean it, crazy-ass unpredictable bastard, the harsh reality of unfairness met with unfairness, undeniably so, and he had to say mean but truthful and necessary things directly to our allies. How rude! To tremendous disruption. Ewww, those mices hate him to pieces. The American stock market responded positively and very largely and immediately. Woosh. Up 70 points in an hour following the new European / American announcement. So people with money on the table understand the new situation, and collectively they like it, even as globalist commentators and journalists go out of their minds spinning in the wake of Trump-created events. They cannot keep up. Just as they have their narrative sorted, Helsinki bad, Putin bad, Trump with Putin in Helsinki bad, Trump treasonous. Trump snaps the rug from under them and sends them all spinning with new trade deals for natural gas to Europe with America as supplier, and a very long list of other products and commodities putting the reality to the truth he delivered to NATO nations about Germany and about Russia, about large sums of money, and about not making sense. Journalist wanted Trump to fight with Putin verbally so they can hear with their ears the words they need Trump to say to prove to them he's not a Putin puppet, then Trump disrupts European deal with Russian energy to American advantage, and to NATOs advantage, and to Putin's huge disadvantage. Trump's actions speak much more clearly than journalist's words and with far greater affect. And all this with dizzying speed. That no one can handle.
When Trump says he holds all the cards he means it simply as that. Russia has but one good export, energy, and Trump just now pooped on that. China's centrally directed mercantilist economy relies entirely on exports. They cannot survive without imports. They cannot feed their own population by their own economy.They cannot satisfy their internal demand with internal supply. They cannot expand economically without centrally directed exports. They're fenced in. The United States can do both. The United States hold all the cards in any direct economic war with China. China is attacking American farmers to erode Trump support, but they're fated to lose that specific economic battle. Clever Chinese. You still lose. In the end, best for China to end its own unbalanced tariffs against the U.S. and its own distorting subsidies. Then we can have free trade. While forcing China to see the light takes a very good deal of rough talk and counter tariff raising. Same with Canada and Mexico who all take advantage of poorly drawn trade agreements with the U.S. that globalist see as balanced while the bulk of middle America does not.
Roger Simon very nicely explains what is happening. And even as Simon does explain in such basic terms that even the simplest dummkopf understands it, there are still commenters that appear in his section to troll with exceedingly poorly thought through contrarian views of what we are all seeing, setting granular things they notice against large things they cannot fully imagine. They're handled swiftly and deftly by other commenters with greater more encompassing views. A sample:
* Trumpkins are blind, deaf and dumb.
* Tell that to the farmers who are now receiving welfare benefits.
* Trump’s war on farmers must be stopped! His policies have already led to American industries like Harley-Davidson cutting jobs, but, now Trump is hurting farmers too.
MAGA = Motorcycles Are Going Away
* Trump’s economic decisions have led to disaster for many small businesses.
* Are the people that loss their jobs due to Trump tariffs illiterate too?
*squeaky ventriloquist voice* "So, Chip, what was in the box?"
Oh that.
A smaller 9x4x4 inch Pullman pan. A heavy-duty terrine pan with a sliding lid. To create square loaves. I'm on a sourdough kick right now and I want to make precious little sandwiches. The one similar 13x4x4 is too long for a regular guy who cannot eat that much bread in a month. You'd be appled how much I paid for these two simple pans that will not see much use.
I meant to say appalled just now.
But what the heck. They'll outlast me. When I die someone will use them to store things. The Amazon guy is a ghost to me. While Trump is a blur.
"That's right Merv. I cant have conventional sex because my vagina is about this big. They used to call it the Bat Cave when I was in High School. So I decided that I couldn't date in a conventional way. After all this the sixties. We are all trying unconventional things."
"I know I am having three way sex with Eva and a pig."
"Who Zsa Zsa?"
"No I don't have a death wish. Arnold."
"Wow that's groovy. What do you have to say for yourself Suzie Wong?"
"Me love you long time!"
"No you need to love me long Bat time!"
"We will be right back after this word from our sponsors."
She had a short but productive career that was cut short unlike her wild eighties hair. She got second hand cooties from Mork and could have starred in the remake of Jack and the Bean Stalker. There were many starlets in that era and she was a particularly fresh and innocent one.
Commenters elsewhere say none of the Democrats in Congress will support this and neither will a set of predictable Republicans. They are pessimistic this will go anywhere.
Calm down. You don't have to like the song. That's not part of it. You don't have to like the artist either. You don't even have to like the type of music. It's just a vehicle.
There is no sign for zephyr.
There is no sign for zeppelin.
There is no sign for dirigible.
There is no sign for airship.
There is no sign for blimp.
We're off to a bad start.
There is a sign for balloon. And zephyr is like a ballon in the sky. So you can define it and the definition fits right into the music, "Zephyr in the sky." You blow a ballon and place it in the sky and float it slowly along, slowly as the music allows.
This is from Victory Girls. It's an item about Cory Booker opposing Brett Kavanaugh. Apparently he's afraid that Kavanaugh might overturn Roe vs. Wade.
I thought his name was Broker.
Why would anyone be afraid of thing like that? Do they have some sort of emotional investment in killing their unborn babies on an industrial scale, or what? Explain to me why this shouldn't be matter for separate states. Why take away power from states like this? Is the Supreme Court decision really this fragile? If it is that fragile, then why? Why isn't it solid and unassailable? Why so fearful?
Or are they lying again? Is this gay dude really that concerned about his people being unable to practice the eugenic pogrom designed into this apparently fragile and easily assailable and questionable Supreme Court decision for them? Are they really this afraid they'll be forced to deal with the issue all over again state by state? Très horrible, more incipient spirits that pass the gauntlet of birth control pills, patches, inserts, implants, IUD's, diaphragms, shots, sponges, condoms, spermicides, cervical caps, vasectomies, abortificants, and abortions allowed by states, will live.
Cory has a pleasant face.
When he crunches up his pleasant face to look fierce, he purposefully distorts what God gave him.
This file is so small I didn't even bother to optimize it.
She costarred with the Duke in one of my favorite movies. A star in many westerns she was an excellent actress who had a pretty good career. Unfortunately her demons got the best of her. The Devil got this Angel in the end.
I have been teasing my mother in law that I am going to set up a blog for her. You see everytime we watch an old movie she tells me how the actress died. This one had cancer. That one caught a heart attack. The other one was in a car crash and her head was cut off. So I am going to start a blog for her. "How did she Die?"
Sort of a morbid Whose that Girl. So whose that Angel? She is going to be the first post.
This is the second part of the twenty-third episode of 25 episodes in the Story of Sinuhe. So this particular fun is about to end. Sinuhe became old and began to have dreams of returning to Egypt, but he must face the music of abandoning the Pharaoh right at the moment of transition when he was needed. The king welcomes him back but gives him a lecture similar to the type we endured for eight years.
His wife must have died because she is not mentioned. He leaves everything to his kids.
I made this just for you.
I made it run fast.
And it was a total itchbay to make.
Because Photoshop keeps acting up in immensely unhelpful ways. And now it protests handling large files. Seems this happens after every Mac upgrade. The thing no longer behaves as it did. It's ultra sensitive to things I don't care about. It won't save the file in .gif form, even though it's under the maximum 500 frames, so I cannot adjust the width to show better here. It's saved in video form. It's like a video from phone held at profile instead of landscape. If you care to view it best go full screen.
You might notice strange things, like sometimes a w is a chick and sometimes a swirl scribble. There are multiple ways of making letters, sounds, actually. There are four different H sounds and three different T sounds multiple D sounds, and S and Z sounds, and different ways to draw N. Some signs make the same sounds with different meanings. Others make no sound at all. They clarify what the previous sounds mean, and there is redundancy all over the place, bookending words, along with conscious omissions of crucial elements.
Also, sometimes I make up stuff. Why not? Some signs nobody knows what they mean, so I might as well do it myself. I know Egyptians probably didn't have headphones but I don't care, that's what the sign looks like, and they'd be awfully hip if they did have them. And I know they had no use for icepicks but that's what the thing looks like.
You poop. I poop right back on you. And I am full of shit. To unload. On you.
Ask any of my friends. I'll wear them right out. I'll clear the whole table in three seconds flat and clear the room in five.
Literally, clear the entire room in five seconds flat.
They can't take me.
I realized how bad I've become because I followed the Drudge link about Democrats being ready to take the House just to find out what kind of dummkopfs say ridiculous crap like that. Turns out to be the Hill. So I pooped on them. I didn't even bother to read their stupid article. Just poop. As they do. They taught me to poop large.
Oh, the Hill. That explains it. The place where Democrats come for oxygen as their miserable hopelessly corrupted party dies in the mud for lack of it.
♫ I'm a pooper, ♫ you're a pooper, ♫ he's a pooper too.
Now I'm getting Discus messages through email about replies to my poop. But I don't care.
La la la. I don't care.
They all go directly to trash just as the little plastic poop bags do when you walk your dog in the city. I don't care what they say, supportive or contrarian. I don't read a single one. Would you be interested in replies to the poop that you flushed? I wrote it to have them all feel a little bit miserable. To get their dander up. To poop on their party. Then leave.
Without reading. Without being annoyed by the site's ads.
It's fun. Kicking 'em when they're down and miserable and mean and nasty because that's the way we prefer them. As losers. Because they're even much MUCH MUCH worse when they win. That's when they're truly intolerable.
Just like they made my last fifteen birthday parties miserable by compulsively citing their ridiculously mean-spirited ever-evolving catechisms.
It's not possible to say, "Boy it sure was hot outside today."
Or, "Is it hot enough for you?" Ha ha ha ha ha ha.
Or, "Boy, it sure was hot." *squeaky ventriloquist voice* "How hot was it?"
"It was so hot I saw two gay iguanas at the hardware store buying a swamp cooler."
"Ha ha ha, funny. But why do the iguanas have to be gay?"
"Because they're not attracted to lady iguanas. Duh!"
No.
Now, the heat-related remarks must be snidely partisan, "But all that doesn't have a-n-y-t-h-i-n-g to do with global warming. NoooOOOOOOOOOooo. "
"Fuck you, Have It Both Ways Guy. Have three way, have it four ways guy. One, we notice you've slipped back to global warming now that's it summer and now that it's hot. Two, next winter you'll switch back to Global Climate Change™at your convenience. Three, nobody, and I mean nobody has ever disputed against global climate change. You don't own the 3rd grade meteorology that everyone already accepted before your Party and your media finally caught up, and you're arguing with people who don't exist. You are mischaracterizing your imagined opposition. You couldn't repeat their point of view to their satisfaction, because you don't know it. And Fourth, you have nothing whatsoever to suggest doing about it except to drain the American economy through newly established flows of currency with your politicians positioned along the confluence of cash streams delivered to 3rd world tin pot dictators who do nothing at all to fix climate change, or their own civilizations, even if that was desirable. You have no good suggestions that actually accomplish anything. Fifth you're fucking up my beautiful birthday dinner AGAIN with your stupid poop. All the stuff you memorized from your retarded media zombies, and ruminated like a drunk bellied up at the bar, and spew at a moment's notice, without provocation, continuously loaded for bear. But 100% unprepared for rebuttal, so off you flounce to avoid confronting a p.o.v more developed than yours, more subtle than yours, happier than yours, more understanding and lovelier than yours. Loser. (Worse because he actually is a recovering alcoholic, and that is exactly how he sounds.) You're a pooper. I'm a pooper too.
I shit on your stupid ass politics.
Change of subject. Right here.
You want to hear something insanely stupid?
I asked about this and never did get a good answer. Because a good answer doesn't exist.
I didn't even get an answer to what the thought process is. Because there is no thought process.
Most frustrating. Because there is nothing there to even see.
I didn't know what anything was about. I didn't know how this came up. I don't know what the previous discussion was. But nothing is matching. It doesn't make sense.
A guest produced an envelope of Béarnaise sauce.
An envelope!
A g.d. envelope.
For sauce.
Boy, that took me back to when society was perfectly retarded.
Why did he do that? "He's actually a very good cook."
"Okay, now you're really not making any sense. A good cook doesn't do that. They wouldn't even think of using a packaged sauce. Not anymore than professional photographer would put their camera on automatic, or a professional driver would push the button for cruise control."
"It's béchamel with tarragon. Here, smell."
He held a new jar of dried tarragon to my nose to smell.
He bought a jar of dried tarragon to supplement the envelope of sauce that specifically changes béchamel to Béarnaise.
"I know what it smells like. And now you're really not making sense. You are confusion, upon confusion, upon confusion." (It's no wonder his politics are so massively fucked up.)
He brings his stupid ass f'k'd up envelope sauce to a party along with his f'k'd up zombie partisan mantras.
Opening an envelope and mixing the contents with milk and then supplementing with dried tarragon bought from the place where fresh tarragon is available, is no more easy to do than preparing béchamel from real butter and milk and flour and adding fresh tarragon, right there, with somebody else's little pot and somebody else's stove, for a result that's an entire magnitude of order better. The envelope is not easier, not faster, not any more simple, but it is a lot worse.
"Would you like some Béarnaise on your smoked tenderloin?"
"FUCK NO!"
And that's only the beginning.
Don't even host parties for me anymore. I have zero interest in participating in Democrat caucuses.
And that's what your parties are. That's what you bring with you to my parties.
I liken the impulse to the community upholding the pueblo stucco structures. The entire community slaps new mud on their church. They must because it occasionally rains and the stucco is not permanent. Stucco is not a permanent truth. It's not a construction material that lasts without constant upkeep. Exactly like your fragile community reality. You are Borg who must be patched up and repaired, reaffirmed, continuously. So you seek reaffirmation at social gatherings. It's all that there is for you to talk about. Every single celebratory gathering is used to reassure yourselves that your dainty evanescent unsteady reality is still there, still holding up after all these storms, and to traduce the rain that erodes it. And that's why you so glibly poop on my parties. For you are a pooper. And so I am pooper too.
And I will shit all over your stinking party. So don't even bother inviting me. You come with your shit. I definitely come with mine.
Explain to me why this is great. I will not argue.
Sundance says it is another example of President Trump's gift for creating remarkable moments. Is this a remarkable moment? Open my eyes to why this is a remarkable moment. An old man hangs around VFWs all his life (their drinks are real cheap) and says what he wants. I've seen a million of 'em. (Possibly five). My mum was president of Lady's Auxiliary for a few years and every drawer in their household was filled with the commemorative jewelry they gave her for doing that so long and so energetically. The commenters over there at Sundance's place are patriotic in a basic and unalloyed way as with their religion. Religious and patriotic. Both of pure types. So they feel everything like this is super tremendous and splendid. Why is it great?
* Awesome instant rapport.
* Brought tears to my eyes.
* Don't let him near the mic, LOL, takes over.
* We owe them so much.
* Our hearts overflow with love and gratitude.
* Beautiful
And so on down the line.
It is all that? Why?
We look forward to seeing Alan Jones again next year with his family at the White House as promised. You had better live, old man, and not let us down.
I asked the boys if they had perogies in Ukraine and they said, "no." Then Alona interjected, "We had vareniki. They can be filled with meat or sauerkraut, or whatever. Anything."
Adding sour cream to the dough changes the pH and makes the dough a lot more elastic.
This is the top secret ingredient that Chinese cooks add to their noodle dough, except different, they go the opposite pH direction by adding *whispers* A TEASPOON OF BAKING SODA, oops, I was supposed to whisper that, not yell it. There goes the secret. It alters the pH, to make it stretch ridiculously and by whacking the dough on a table dusted with flour, instead of rolling it, they stretch the thick dough strand then fold it in two dough strands separated by a light coating of flour, then again into four srands, then eight, then sixteen strands, they keep slapping and whacking and folding in half, then thirty two then sixty four strands, then 128, and the tourists gawk in amazement, then 256 strands, then 512 strands of noodles, the mass stays the same while the number of strands keeps doubling, then 1,024 strands of noodles and they keep slapping the stretched dough onto the lightly floured table and visitors take pictures and selfies, and ooh and ah, and they keep doubling until they have over 2,000,000 strands of outrageously thin spaghetti noodles, and cut off both ends to free them, but nobody wants it because it's like eating limp hair. It's fun, but nothing can be done with them. I might have embellished a little, to make the story more interesting. The point is, you can make dough more elastic by goofing the pH one way or the other with additional substances like sour cream or baking soda.
Let's try it.
I first started a different video of two guys. Shut it down after just two words. British accent. Nope. Goodbye. I'll be talking like that for the rest of the night, trying to sound dopey as possible. And I hate myself when I keep doing that all the time. So no to you, speech impediment person. I'm too susceptible to cartoon accents.
To Iranian President Rouhani: NEVER, EVER THREATEN THE UNITED STATES AGAIN OR YOU WILL SUFFER CONSEQUENCES THE LIKES OF WHICH FEW THROUGHOUT HISTORY HAVE EVER SUFFERED BEFORE. WE ARE NO LONGER A COUNTRY THAT WILL STAND FOR OYUR DEMENTED WORDS OF VIOLENCE & DEATH. BE CAUTIOUS!
See that? Caps. And you know what caps mean. Caps mean business!
I wonder what triggered this. Was it something they said? Curious.
* So President Obama knew about Russia before the Election. Why didn’t he do something about it? Why didn’t he tell our campaign? Because it is all a big hoax, that’s why, and he thought Crooked Hillary was going to win!!!
* I had a GREAT meeting with Putin and the Fake News used every bit of their energy to try and disparage it. So bad for our country!
* “Source #1 was the (Fake) Dossier. Yes, the Dirty Dossier, paid for by Democrats as a hit piece against Trump, and looking for information that could discredit Candidate #1 Trump. Carter Page was just the foot to surveil the Trump campaign...” ILLEGAL!
* Andrew McCarthy - “I said this could never happen. This is so bad that they should be looking at the judges who signed off on this stuff, not just the people who gave it. It is so bad it screams out at you.” On the whole FISA scam which led to the rigged Mueller Witch Hunt!
* Looking more & more like the Trump Campaign for President was illegally being spied upon (surveillance) for the political gain of Crooked Hillary Clinton and the DNC. Ask her how that worked out - she did better with Crazy Bernie. Republicans must get tough now. An illegal Scam!
* Congratulations to @JudicialWatch and @TomFitton on being successful in getting the Carter Page FISA documents. As usual they are ridiculously heavily redacted but confirm with little doubt that the Department of “Justice” and FBI misled the courts. Witch Hunt Rigged, a Scam!
* No Collusion, No Obstruction - but that doesn’t matter because the 13 Angry Democrats, who are only after Republicans and totally protecting Democrats, want this Witch Hunt to drag out to the November Election. Republicans better get smart fast and expose what they are doing!
* The Rigged Witch Hunt, headed by the 13 Angry Democrats (and now 4 more have been added, one who worked directly for Obama W.H.), seems intent on damaging the Republican Party’s chances in the November Election. This Democrat excuse for losing the ‘16 Election never ends!
* Inconceivable that the government would break into a lawyer’s office (early in the morning) - almost unheard of. Even more inconceivable that a lawyer would tape a client - totally unheard of & perhaps illegal. The good news is that your favorite President did nothing wrong!
And more, people he'd like to see elected, characterization of Pelosi, remarks about NFL, remarks about media, European money grabbers, Russia, Hillary, he's all over the place. You really must see this.
Fresh from a month-long trip to Ukraine my brother, his wife and two boys called to congratulate me for living a another whole year and to wish me good luck for another. I asked the boys, "What did you learn?"
"Um. Uh, Hmmm. Uh. Hmmm. Duh. Uh. Um. Hmmm. Uh. Hmm. Um. Um. Er. Um. Huh. Uuuuuh. Hmmmmmmmmm. Errrrrr. Deeeerrrrrr. Uuuuuuuuuh. Uuuuuuum. A lot of people smoke cigarettes.
I told the boys that I ate the last chocolate rabbit. I saved it for last because I thought it'd be gross but it turned out to be the best thing of all. I thought that I disliked milk-chocolate, but the bunny made me realize it's actually delicious. It took me back decades to when I was their age and loved milk-chocolate. So now I think I'm reverting.
I described how I ate it, in detail, and the boys are so easily amused, they both paid close attention as if I was reading a story. They participated in the story-telling and created quite a ruckus on their end in California, and I could hear how my sister-in-law and brother enjoy their boys being in a gleeful high-energy state of near riot. Those two boys add so much to their lives. Those boys are their lives.
This is not a video to actually watch, nor is it to be listened to. It's a link to YouTube so you can read the comments there.
YouTube went funny. You touch "view more" button and more related videos appear and underneath the list of new videos, the comments to the current video appear. That's what you want. We're looking at people pointing in wonder at the spectacle of a mental hospital patient provided an audience for her ramblings. For some very strange reason people still assemble to hear what this woman has on her mind. And not to throw tomatoes. What is it? The same macabre fascination as with car wrecks?
I don't know.
They're talking about her dress. She looks insane.
In another thread a Twitter woman said, "Sure, nevermind what she has to say, talk about her dress instead."
That's right, Sister. Absolutely. Nevermind what she says. There is nothing of any value whatsoever to be heard. Nothing. And you're foolish and hopeless if you think that there is.
Reminds me of that dreadful episode in hospital ICU. I could write a book about it. A very dreadful book. So much happened those few days. So much recalled. I'll spare you. Except, at one point I realized the people passing by the window to come visit their loved ones in ICU were all curious about people being repaired. It was just natural curiosity. But it did make me feel like a zoo animal, hooked up and unable to move, a veritable prisoner tied to my bed by several criss-crossing wires and tubes going into both arms and even out of my dick. And every person who passes by is gawking at me tied up like that.
I was a little bit upset at the time.
Distraught, you might say.
And you might say a psychological mess.
Following several visitors doing the same thing, gawking at the broken prisoner inside his little cell, like a scene from a horror movie, a heavyset woman is walking with her husband, he is looking forward and she is holding his hand walking forward with him but with her head turned staring at me for the moment she has until they both pass my window and I extend my arms sideways imploringly and with 500% exaggeration I silently pantomime:
"WHAT?"
Then I felt a little bit bad for being so mean to a woman I don't know for simply being curious. I know better than that. I'm a bad Christian.
Then on the return the couple both walked past again the opposite direction but forcing their gaze forward, stiff-necked and militaristically, commanding themselves, overriding their natural impulse to look. And HARD.
I laughed so hard at that the whole bed and assemblage of wires and tubes shook, the entire room shook with my laughter. My little piss bag was splashing. God, that was funny. The awareness of her discussing with her husband what I did and both of them responding to chiding hit me as hilarious but you had to be really sick for it to be that funny.
