John Ratcliffe shoots Weissmann's and Mueller's dogs and ponies.

Ratcliffe dismantles Weissmann's and Mueller's interpretation of DOJ rules.

As you know the Democrats last dying breath of resistance is to put on a dog and pony show by dragging Mueller in front of Congress for extremely tightly scripted questioning. They do this while keeping America's southern border wide open to veritable invasion and while our country thrives under Trump leadership.

You might not know that Nancy Pelosi released Democrat "Mueller Blitz" designated talking points (pdf) to get her people on track. It is long and utterly ridiculous. Too ridiculous to waste time on. It's a document of serial lies. Debunking it would be a massive waste of effort better spent doing the dishes.

Mueller has a stolid scary face but that's it. Behind the no-nonsense military general visage is a marshmallow. He is not leader of the investigation. He did not choose his team. Rather, the team was already in place, already active, and they chose him. They're the same team of people who protected Hillary Clinton from Ben Ghazi investigation, the same team that organized the Russian collusion narrative against Trump, the same people who tacked together the FISA court inquiries to spy on Trump campaign, the same group that organized the resistance to aggressively protect FBI and DOJ by attacking Trump, the exact same people on the investigative team who selected Mueller as their leader, the same people leading this impeachment effort against the will of the people.

So having Mueller testify, is dangerous for them. He is following, not leading the group, and frankly, he doesn't know what he is talking about. He doesn't fully comprehend the distorted efforts of his bizarrely whacked team. Notice the real team leadership is sitting right next to him during questioning.

Ratcliffe tears Mueller a new butt hole and it is glorious to watch. Mueller sits there stunned like the dope that he is unable to answer. Ratcliffe shoots the dogs and ponies jumping and prancing around Congress today.

There are many more videos along these lines.


But I've got chores to do.

Lots of them.

I have to get my place together before friends come over on Saturday to bring up a new aquarium and stand from my truck and take down the old one and toss it.

And that means lots and lots of work. I don't have time for Democrats.

In fact. I don't have any more time left for any more Democrats ever. For the rest of my life.

They're a massive pain in the ass.

And that's all that they are.

Discussing Democrats is the exact same thing as discussing the massive pain in your ass. Discussing crackpots all day eventually turns you into a crackpot.

So, uckemfay.

Let them put on their crackpot show for crackpots. I've got much better things to do.

But in case you're interested.

Jim Jordan outlines the involvement of western intelligence asset Joseph Mifsud and how the Mueller small group ignored his involvement thus exposing the biased agenda of the Mueller scheme.

(Interesting in a waste of time way.)

Representative Steube exposes the Mueller team bias by pinpointing what they would not discuss.

Mueller testimony live streamed. The whole dealio if you've got unlimited time for Democrat horseshit. I suppose this is the fight for their lives. Alas. I don't care about their political lives. They can all go drop themselves into a black hole for all that I care about them.

Oh man.

That line, "Democrat horseshit" caused an immediate flashback to the first grade. The visual is stunning.

This was in Dushore Pennsylvania. A tiny town started by a French guy located near the radar site in Benton where my dad worked and where we would soon move when a house on the base opened up. There were only 14 houses on the radar site, so we were in Dushore a little over a year.

Cute place.

It's like primeval forest all around the whole town.

It's like a town in a H.O. train set.

Across the street my girlfriend's dad owned the dairy that served the whole area. Their house was attached to the dairy.

To the side of their property they had a stable and behind the dairy property a pasture for a horse that belonged to the girl in first grade with me. Beyond the pasture was a creek and tree where my brother and I built a treehouse. Of sorts. A platform with walls and a roof.

No girls allowed.

To get to our treehouse we had to walk through the pasture.

And that meant stepping through quite a lot of horse shit.

Barry picked up a dry turd and threw it at me.

I picked up a dry turd and threw it at him.

Back and forth we threw horse turds at each other.

BLAM! right on the arm.

BLAM! right on the head.

BLAM! right on the chest.

Impressive how the turds exploded so dramatically. They were perfect for throwing.

I had horse turds all over my clothes and my hair. My hands were filthy and my clothes and shoes were coated when I answered my mother's question, "What have you been doing now?"

"We were having a horse shit fight."

I thought it was great.

"You take off your clothes right now. Leave them right there where you are. And get into the bathtub. I'll be right in."

So I did.

She made such a big deal out of everything.

The next thing she's scrubbing me more harshly than usual, more vigorously.

That tub.

Is the same tub I dumped buckets of gravel. Back and forth, back and forth, with my little bucket filled with dirt and gravel.

I caught five little fish in the creek and they were still alive after I took out the hook from their mouth. Now, this was really neat-o. Five fish! Come on, how often does a guy get five fish? Alive!

I wanted their new home to resemble the creek where they lived so I put gravel and dirt in the bathtub to resemble the creek. Then filled it with water.

I didn't know the water needed to be the same too. Back then I thought water is water, the same everywhere. I didn't know that dumping the sickly dying fish into the bathroom water would kill them even faster.

I didn't know that filling the bathtub with a layer of gravel would piss off my parents.

But it did.

I recall nothing about cleaning up the bathtub. I guess my mother did that. Hey, that's what mums are for. Mum was put on earth for me. I wish Mum was around now because my whole place is a wreck right now. I have to get back to cleaning it up. Life was different back then at age six. I got bossed around quite a lot but everything was taken care of.