Mark Meadows said he's had enough of DOJ hiding information from Congress tasked with their oversight.
Jim Jordan is also leading the charge.
Story at Daily Caller.
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.
Thursday, July 26, 2018
Ray of Light
Let's learn a song.
Hey!
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.
Hey!
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.
balloon
Wednesday, July 25, 2018
Let's draw Cory Booker
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.
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.
Whose that girl running in the rain?
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.
Sinuhe before the king
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.
Have a look. It's kind'a fun.
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.
Have a look. It's kind'a fun.
Tuesday, July 24, 2018
You're a pooper, I'm a pooper too.
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.
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.
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.
Ninety-four-year-old veteran, Alan Jones, takes the stage at Trump's address to V.F.W.
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.
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.
Rand Paul talks about effort to remove security clearances for six top ex-officials
Rand Paul is trying to get Trump to remove clearances for officials who've abused them.
*Starts chant*
Do it!
Do it!
Do it!
Dew it!
Dew it!
Dew it!
Dewitt!
Dewitt!
Dewitt!
Dwit!
Dwit!
Dwit!
Dit!
Dit!
Dit!
Dt!
Dt!
Dt!
D!
D!
D!
Urg!
Gurgle!
Gag!
Well, that devolved quickly.
Martha MacCallum says this story begins with Rand Paul.
I'd say, the story begins with six high level officials abusing their security clearance, but what do I know about where stories begin?
*Starts chant*
Do it!
Do it!
Do it!
Dew it!
Dew it!
Dew it!
Dewitt!
Dewitt!
Dewitt!
Dwit!
Dwit!
Dwit!
Dit!
Dit!
Dit!
Dt!
Dt!
Dt!
D!
D!
D!
Urg!
Gurgle!
Gag!
Well, that devolved quickly.
Martha MacCallum says this story begins with Rand Paul.
I'd say, the story begins with six high level officials abusing their security clearance, but what do I know about where stories begin?
Monday, July 23, 2018
Grandma's perogies
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.
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.
Ah, American speech. It's the best.
These seem like a nice couple.
Storm
Tweet storm. Trump is tweeting up a storm.
I wonder what triggered this. Was it something they said? Curious.
Or not. Your choice. It's the best thing online.
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.
Or not. Your choice. It's the best thing online.
Eat a bunny
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.
"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.
Bubble-wrapped Clinton
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.
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.
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