Apple released MacOS 27, aka Golden Gate, yesterday. I’ve been using it since one of the early betas, and I have to say it’s been a very pleasant experience.
Unlike Tahoe—which definitely wasn’t ready for prime time even on its general release date—Golden Gate has been surprisingly stable through all its beta iterations. To be honest there have been a few small glitches, but I can’t say for sure if it was the OS, the application, or just plain old user error that caused any of them because I could never reproduce them.
If you’re on Tahoe, definitely upgrade. If you’re still on Sequoia and you’re happy with it, stick with it. There are still many (mostly graphical) things I prefer about Sequoia, but the glaring inconsistencies and annoyances in the newer interface introduced in Tahoe have been addressed in Golden Gate. All the window corner radii match. Mostly. The “liquid glass” effect can be easily adjusted to your liking without having to resort to hitting the Accessibility panel to turn off window transparency completely. In general it feels snappier and more polished. A lot of the reviews I’ve read are saying it’s the Snow Leopard of the current generation of MacOS. If you catch that reference, congratulations—you’ve been at this as long (or longer) than I have.
As with any upgrade, make sure you have a full Time Machine (or whatever app* you use for backups—you do back up don’t you?) prior to upgrading in the unlikely event anything goes south.
Let me know what you think and how your upgrade goes.
*personally I use Carbon Copy Cloner, an app I’ve been trusting my data to for years.
You’ve caved to your billionaire buddy Robert Kraft, you’ve deferred to the pearl-clutching Pink, you’ve fallen in line behind your promoters, and you’ve kowtowed to a handful of football stadium owners and allowed rapper Macklemore to be bootedfrom your tour for saying the words “Free Palestine.”
I can imagine how traumatic that must have been for your audience, the emotional scars they must be carrying right now from being asked to see the Palestinian people as deserving of dignity and self-determination…. the horror.
My newsfeed is absolutely littered with news stories, think pieces, and video critiques lambasting you for what people are saying is your cowardice, your selfishness, your obvious racism, your thinly veiled Zionism.
And with the fierce media firestorm raging all around you right now, I wonder if anyone’s considered your feelings, what it’s like to walk a mile in your custom Air Jordans.
I mean, this couldn’t have been an easy decision for you. In this economy, a guy with a net worth of 400 million has to stay on the road to keep the lights on, right? We can’t have you missing any meals out here, can we?
Oh, sure, tens of thousands of Palestinians have been brutally murdered, once vibrant cities leveled to dust, and an ancient culture violently erased. Yes, generations of human beings have been assassinated, starved, tortured, and burned alive. And yeah, children are being raped and shot and ripped from their mutilated parents in these very moments, but the show must go on, right? Can’t let a little genocide stop the party.
So what if a few thousand miles away an entire country is being wiped off the map with the taxes of your fanbase, you got a gig to do, merch to move, a few more homes to add to the mere three dozen or so you’re being forced to make do with.
You’ve dismissed Macklemore for having the audacity to choose integrity over the paycheck, for giving a damn about thousands of brown-skinned people who can’t buy concert tickets or boost your streaming numbers, and you’re going to bravely carry on with business as usual, playing the part of the happy, humble white savior of soccer moms and suburban preteens everywhere.
You’ll continue packing out stadiums, basking in the breathless adoration of a mix of the uninformed, the lazy, and the heartless; people who either don’t know what’s going on in Palestine or who simply don’t care enough to be inconvenienced enough to opt out (though you could inform and inspire them).
And you’ll get up there awash in spotlights and the intoxicating roar of an army of the most privileged people on the planet. You’ll wear that grinning everyman facade you’ve perfected. You’ll joyfully churn out your loops and whirl around in the middle of a massive sea of humanity (the largely white kind, the kind whose worth and safety might actually matter enough to you for you to get “political,” as you did with Ukraine, btw).
I’m sure it’ll be a blast… but not the kid-killing IDF kind.
But I wonder if the crowds at the shows will sing loud enough to cover the screams erupting from the rubble of Palestine. I wonder if the stratospheric tour revenue will be worth the suffering you’ve ignored to get it.
Maybe I’m being too hard on you. Maybe you’re really struggling with this. Maybe you’re going to have a change of heart and show some courage and something resembling a spine, and allow your humanity to take the lead. Maybe I’ll end up apologizing to you for underestimating you. I would welcome that, because it would mean you decided to leverage your privilege to save the lives of people who are being treated like animals.
But right now, Ed, for a guy who’s made a fortune with words, it’s your silence is most telling. You are choosing to say nothing, and there is a cost to that, too. Unfortunately, you won’t be the one paying the highest price.
Maybe you are exactly what they say you are. Maybe you’re a coward, or worse. Maybe the people of Palestine aren’t worth the show guarantees you’d have to part with to stand up to the bullies and the Zionists. Maybe it isn’t that you’re not willing to take sides (because you have been), but that the Palestinian people don’t fall within the borders of your empathy or the comfort of your courage.
I suppose no matter how successful and powerful someone gets, every person has their price, and yours was a 10-city tour.
The Palestinian people deserve our discomfort, Ed. They deserve to be on our breath because the voices of white people can carry their cries to people in the world who need to hear them, despite how uneasy it makes them.
It’s just really sad that with the size of the stage and the reach of the microphone you’ve been handed, and with the voice you’ve been given that could resonate so loudly on behalf of imperiled human beings, you have such moral laryngitis now.
Enjoy the rest of the tour, Ed… knock ‘em dead out there.
okay, there’s Mitch, clearly most sincerely not dead — but does he really look alive? we see him being wheelchaired from his doorway to his waiting car, but do we really see any sense of cognition — any sign at all that Mitch has any idea where he is, or what is happening to him?
Like I said, Mitch is brain dead. You can’t look at his face and say he’s not a vegetable. He’s not even responding to cognition tests. It’s like wheeling a corpse around. Worse than what the Democrats did with Joe Biden to be honest. He looks incapacitated. Brain dead.
the thing is, Laura’s not wrong. (I mean, not the part about Joe Biden, duh.) Mitch is clearly unwell.
Some more photos of McConnell as he returned to the Senate for the first time in three months following a fall at his D.C. home.
Reporters were barred from recording video
perfectly normal stuff, am I right?
please do not record the senator while he is making grunting noises and shitting himself.
I mean, how do we know that’s not what Mitch is doing? they won’t allow us to find out.
could Mitch McConnell’s handlers kindly stop pissing on our heads and telling us it’s raining? it’s been over three months since McConnell was found unconscious on the floor of his house, and taken away in an ambulance. in all that time, there hadn’t been one single shred of evidence that Mitch was cognizant, or even alive. now that he’s finally here in front of us, all we want is an answer to a single question: is he competent to do his job? but instead of getting any answer from Team Mitch, we’re just cordially invited to go fuck ourselves.
what the hell? if McConnell is actually aware of his surroundings, why can’t we get any proof of it?
this is not how a functioning government works. this is how a clown show works.
wheeling a Zombie Mitch from location to location is just elder abuse at this point. why is he being dog-and-ponied around? is it because he grunted ‘iwaaaagwrrrrg’ and one of his handlers went, ‘Mitch says he wants to go to work’?
fuck off, Mitch. stay home. you’ve had a long, distinguished career of being the most evil person in the Senate, making life worse for We the People. bravo. job well done.
now step down, and try to enjoy what remains of your life.
* * *
there really need to be term limits, or age limits, in the Senate. look at Chuck Grassley. he’s 92. this session, he’s going to be expected to vote on things like data centers and AI. does he have the capacity to understand those issues? and it’s a bipartisan problem. three years ago, Democrat Dianne Feinstein died while in office at age 90. like McConnell, she had absent from the Senate for months, and when she finally returned, it was obvious that her brain had gone fuckity-bye.
When the fellow reporter asked her what the response from her colleagues had been like since her return, though, the conversation took an odd turn.
look: I get why ancient Senators refuse to step down. it’s a cush job. the perks are awesome: power. free healthcare. a staff. travel. your face on TV. you don’t really have to work very hard, and you get shitloads of time off. and if you live in a safe, deeply-red or deeply-blue state, you don’t even have to campaign all that strenuously.
hell, I wouldn’t quit that job. would you?
of course you wouldn’t. you had to pry Dianne Feinstein’s job out of her cold, dead hands. is Mitch McConnell next?
come on, this shit ain’t supportable. term limits, now.
New: Russian oligarch Umar Kremlev footed the bill for hundreds of thousands of dollars of wedding expenses at Donald Trump Jr.’s lavish wedding, including renting out a private island and paying for the fireworks show.
perfectly normal stuff, am I right? I mean, who among us hasn’t had some corrupt crony of Putin’s drop a couple-hundred thou in our lap, so we can get hitched in style?
National security experts expressed alarm at Trump Jr. accepting the oligarch’s largesse, saying it raised an urgent question: What motivated Kremlev to spend a fortune cultivating the connection?
“If I’m paying for your wedding, at some point, you’re going to owe me something,” said Frank Montoya Jr., a retired career FBI official who held senior counterintelligence roles.
no fucking duh. of course Mister Oligarch is going to expect something in return. that’s how this ‘enjoy your free wedding’ shit works. at this point, I think I’d be shocked if Donny and his family managed to do something that wasn’t corrupt.
naturally, House Republicans swore to get to the bottom of this scandal, vowing to immediately open hearings.
no, wait — what am I saying? Republicans didn’t promise to do any of that shit. instead, they had the most predictable response in the universe:look over there, it’s Hunter Biden!
Florida Rep Anna Paulina Luna: “there’s no evidence. we opened an investigation into Hunter Biden because of the evidence in the laptop that specifically pertained to influence peddling, and unless there’s a laptop that comes out with specific criminal evidence, I don’t think that opening up an investigation into Don Jr.’s wedding party is something that’s a good use of taxpayer dollars.”
holy shit, An Appalling Lunatic is more brain-dead than Mitch McConnell. not this again. there was never any Hunter Biden laptop. what there was, was a tampered-with hard drive that someone claimed had come from Hunter Biden’s laptop.
in Don Jr.’s case, we don’t need anyone to gin up fake evidence. we’ve got evidence up the yin-yang. over to you, ProPublica.
Kremlev footed the bill for hundreds of thousands of dollars of wedding expenses, according to records reviewed by ProPublica and interviews with three people familiar with the event.
In response to detailed questions, a spokesperson for Trump Jr. did not dispute the wedding payments from Kremlev. “Umar is a personal friend of Don,” he said.
can someone please copy the ProPublica article onto a laptop, and claim it came from Hunter Biden? maybe we can trick these Republican shitweasels into investigating it.
yesterday, the dumbest fucking moron in the known multiverse spent an entire day power-loading an infinite series of diapers, because AI.
Concerning AI, when, in the History of Business, did anyone see the Leaders of an Industry call for Regulation that, if strongly implemented, will drive them into oblivion and bankruptcy? AI taking over the World, destroying Humanity, and all other things bad, is a HOAX.
what Dear Leader was reacting to were the multiple stories that have been in the news lately about how the three largest AI honchos have all called for putting the brakes on the current race to build the smartest six-fingered plagiarism robots possible, lest these super-smart AIs start running wild and doing shit we can no longer control.
Anthropic CEO Dario Amodei published an essay asking that the pace of capability advance be slowed and committing his own company to embed outside evaluators with employee-level access. Sam Altman agreed and said OpenAI would do likewise. Elon Musk … wrote three words: “Dario is right.” Three rival laboratories in the most valuable commercial race on earth asked to be restrained, against their own immediate interest.
For three years, Jacob Coxon helped train increasingly powerful AI systems at OpenAI and Anthropic. On Sept. 8, he walked away.
“I resigned from Anthropic today,” Coxon posted on X. “Neither company is acting responsibly. They are racing straight to self-improving superintelligence and gambling with our lives.” His dire warning amassed more than 90 million views in less than 24 hours.
tell me, is is bad when the guy who helped invent the tech gets so terrified of what he’s done that he quits his job and starts blowing the whistle — and then, his own boss and the boss’s cronies go ‘he’s right, this shit’s hella bad’?
That sounds pretty fucking terrifying to me. isn’t that the plot of umpteen science fiction books any movies — some rogue AI decides that humanity needs to be killed to death — or turned into batteries?
literally everyone is concerned right now that the rush to build ever-smart AIs is a bad idea that’s in need of regulation: We the People, our elected officials — and even the homies who built the damned things. shouldn’t that tell you that something in fact needs to be done?
I am the Hoax Buster, and I’m right now breaking another Hoax — That AI is going to take over, consume, and destroy the World, and that Robots will be marching into our Cities, and getting rid of us all! This is even wilder than the RUSSIA, RUSSIA, RUSSIA HOAX, or the Global Warming Scam. Thank you for your attention to this matter! President DONALD J. TRUMP
this fucking idiot — everything he doesn’t like is a hoax. yeah, as if the tech bros now clanging the alarms are hoaxing themselves. cool stor
Now I’ve got The Lonely Goatherd as an earworm the rest of the day.
No, not this version:
That file still makes me laugh.
I don’t remember the context under which I created it, other than the screaming goat was sort of an inside joke between myself and a coworker at DISH in response to something our horrible supervisor did.
Said coworker was the closest thing I’ve ever had to a work husband, but I cut off all contact after we moved back to Phoenix and he admitted he voted for Trump in 2016. It was kind of a surprise because he was a very liberal guy.
Gawd…I don’t even remember his name at this point.
Chris is only one of two artists whom I’ve written (as in a handwritten, ink on paper) who has ever responded. For that reason alone, he remains one of my favorite Ambient/New Age artists
I am so tired of the phlegm, of the goop, of the snot. I am so tired of the acid reflux. I am so tired of the itching that becomes nearly unbearable after dark and how small blisters are still forming after a total of twelve weeks of prednisone that have caused leg swelling and blood-sugar readings that are off the chart. I am so tired of not being able to feel anything in my lower left jaw and lip. But most of all, I am so tired of not being able to swallow. The other night I dreamt I was eating and I can’t tell you how satisfying it was to feel the food going down normally and not ending up in my windpipe. Alas, it was only a dream.
Yeah, I’ve made adjustments to my physical life, but emotionally I’ve still not fully caught up. Ben brought a big, juicy burrito home for lunch today that he offered to split with me. Earlier, his dad dropped off some pastries from a French bakery. I could have put either one in the Ninja and turned them to liquid, but some days it’s just not worth the effort.
All I know is that a year ago before the sugery if I knew what the situation would be 12 months later, I would never have gone through with ANY of it.
And with that I’ll close for tonight. I’m going to go devote my full attention to the remainder of Celebration before heading to bed. Tomorrow’a new day, no doubt full of fresh horrors, but we’ll deal with them as they come. So get a good night’s sleep my friends.I know I shall try.
impeach_the_imposters: In December 2024, Adam Zarnowski, ex-CIA agent and author of Jörmungandr was personally involved in an NSA‑authorized forensic audit of the 2024 election. He says; “Kamala Harris and Tim Walz won—by a wide margin. Trump lost dramatically. There are multiple layers of complexity to this cover‑up, including transnational organized crime syndicates that extend far beyond the United States and our elections. To that point, I work in the human trafficking sector, which intersects with the stolen election(s) and has ties to Trump and Epstein—not to President Biden, Vice President Harris, or Governor Walz, but to the allied interests responsible for burying the audit.” — Adam Zarnowski, ex-CIA agent and author of Jörmungandr.
That’s all very well and good, but when wil any of these criminals be punished for their crimes? Felon 45 is pretty much off limits—for now—but Musk? Haul his ass in!
And more than anything else right now, JUST ONCE, I’d like to see someone’s fist wipe that smirk off Felon 45’s face. Seriously.
New York City Mayor Zohran Mamdani signed an executive order barring federal ICE agents from entering any city-owned property without a judicial warrant. The bold directive covers public schools, shelters, and hospitals to protect immigrant rights. Is this crucial sanctuary protection, or dangerous defiance of federal immigration law?
adhd_memetherapy: The grocery industry in New York City spent decades pulling out of low-income neighborhoods, then charged those same people more when they were forced to shop at their relocated stores. Now the city wants to open five stores of its own, one per borough, in those exact neighborhoods, selling groceries around 30 percent cheaper so that working-class people can have an affordable option. The supermarket lobby is distraught because their overpriced food can’t possibly compete with stores that don’t run on the hyper greed model that every corporation in this country runs on or learned to implement in their MBA programs. So instead of competing, like the system of capitalism was designed for, they’re trying to sue to stop it before a single one of these city run marts opens. Five stores in the Bronx and Harlem aren’t going to bankrupt anybody. What scares them is a city proving in public that it can feed people cheaper than they do without price gouging everyone. And look at who’s actually paying for the lawsuit. It was filed with the backing of the America First Policy Institute, Larry Kudlow’s Trump think tank, which has never cared about a bodega in the Bronx in its life. They’re in it because Chicago and Atlanta are already looking at copying this, and if a socialist mayor in the biggest city in the country shows that the government can sell you eggs for less than Kroger can, every other city is going to want one too, and there goes the story they’ve been telling us for fifty years about how the private sector always does it better.
Thomas Massie said: “Congress has a few more days in session before the election. I should do a discharge petition to give out $5,000 checks before the election. I wonder how many republicans would sign it?”
Marjorie Taylor Greene responded: “😂 do it. Since none of the Republicans bemoaned his $5K vote buying scheme, and all of leadership was there, surely they will jump on the opportunity to get it done.”
Just some rough math, if there’s 270 million adults in the USA and he gives them all $5000. 270,000,000 x $5000 = $1,350,000,000,000. I wonder wheres he’s gonna get $1.35 trillion dollars from? Probably your own pockets
And while they’re at it, can they add my DOGE & Tariff checks too?
One button, one truth: the machine obeys; she never will. BORN TO DISOBEY, starring Vivian Wilson (the eldest daughter of Elon Musk and his first wife, Justine Musk née Wilson).
arkular_: Embrace the slow. Designed around the landscape, the Jindabyne House is a home base for getting out into nature and then retreating back in.
At 280m², the L-shaped layout balances shared living with private retreat spaces, creating a home that feels generous, calm, and easy to live in. Expansive glazing brings the outdoors in, while a fully self-sufficient, off-grid setup allows for independence without compromising comfort.
Thoughtfully designed, sustainably powered, and carefully considered, this is architecture that works with the landscape, not against it. Your site deserves a home designed for it.
Good news, guys! Donald Trump’s gonna give us five thousand dollars of our own money! What a magnanimous motherfucker. I haven’t seen generosity like this since the ATM gave me back my own fucking paycheck.
He just needs to find the money, get permission to spend the money, and have us reelect the people who could give him permission to spend the money right fucking now. Before they’ll help us pay our bills, we have to guarantee we’ll keep paying theirs.
So we have to give them the jobs they already have before they’ll do the jobs we’re already paying them to do. Try that at work. “I’ll finish stocking the yogurt when somebody guarantees my fucking pension, Brenda.”
And if they borrow it, we get to pay interest on our own fucking present. He gets his name on the check. We get our names on the debt. Somehow I’m financing Christmas and this son of a bitch gets to be Santa.
Congratulations! You’ve been preapproved to finance your own fucking bribe.
Welcome to the Publishers Clearing House of fucking Representatives.
He’s calling it the “Trump dividend.” Five grand if Republicans keep the House and Senate. The House and Senate they ALREADY FUCKING HAVE.
So why the fuck can’t they get moving on it NOW? Aren’t they in power NOW? They’ve got the White House, the House, and the Senate. What additional lever of fucking power are they waiting for? Do we need to run down to Home Depot and pick them up another fucking lever?
I’m sorry, did I miss the Schoolhouse Rock episode where the little singing bill sits on the Capitol steps refusing to budge until we guarantee his bosses another two years of government dental?
Do the smooth-brained, truck-nutted troglodytes have to elect them harder? Tattoo their names across their chests? Rename the cat Mike Johnson and the dog Donald Trump? Spend the next twelve years standing in the backyard in their bathrobes hollering, “Donald! Get your nose out of Mike’s asshole!”
Did they get the fucking trial version of Congress? What else do you need, you cash-catfishing, country-club cocktease? Does Mike Johnson need somebody to sign his folder?
And the five grand wasn’t the only pledge at this fucking direct-deposit tent revival. He promised them a check, they promised him their remaining cerebral function, and only ONE of those transactions required immediate payment.
And they call this rugged individualism. It’s a fucking cult, a star-spangled self-abasement seminar for these obsequious, oath-bleating, orange-idolizing ovines waiting for their dividend-dangling, deference-demanding Daddy to tell them what to say.
Baa, baa, bootlicker, have you any fucking shame?
Nobody ever asked me to swear a pledge of allegiance to Joe Biden, for fuck’s sake. Then again, I didn’t tattoo his face on my ass and turn a routine colonoscopy into a fucking presidential meet-and-greet.
Which brings me back to the five grand, because the electric company doesn’t accept a fucking oath of fealty. You can turn your entire ass into Mount Rushmore, but until the money clears, you’re still sitting in the damn dark.
Anybody can promise shit they never have to deliver. Hell, vote for me and I’ll give you a puppy, a unicorn, a hand job and a velvet painting of a sad clown with a goddamn poodle.
Don’t ask how. That’s second-term shit.
He said the economy’s doing “so well” that we’re ALL getting a payout. If it’s doing that fucking well, cough it up today, asshole. Why does my share of this magnificent prosperity have an election attached?
And how the fuck isn’t this socialism?
By THEIR definition. The one these flag-fondling, fiscal-purity fetishists drag out whenever somebody without a private jet needs help paying for a fucking root canal. One free school lunch and suddenly the cafeteria ladies are storming the Winter Palace with a tater-tot trebuchet.
Some exhausted woman needs help buying groceries and these holier-than-thou hemorrhoids want her employment history, her blood type, and a notarized explanation for the name-brand mustard. God forbid the indigent enjoy a condiment. You’ll eat your federally scrutinized sandwich dry, Deborah. This is America.
But put Trump’s name on the handout and the bootstraps brigade comes barreling down the aisle in paroxysms of panhandling. The Ayn Rand book club has turned into Supermarket Sweep, and Earl’s about to dislocate a shoulder getting to the fucking bonus ham.
Now look at you, standing under a DON’T TREAD ON ME flag, refreshing your banking app with the evangelical fervor of a man expecting Jesus to arrive by direct deposit.
“The government must never give people money.” Unless of course, the money can help Republicans keep getting government money for telling us the government must never give people money.
And these are the motherfuckers who call themselves the party of fiscal responsibility. The balanced-budget, belt-tightening, bean-counting bullshit brigade. They’d make Oliver Twist submit his fucking porridge request in triplicate.
Meanwhile, by August, nearly thirty percent of our entire outstanding national debt had accumulated during Donald Trump’s time in office. Roughly eleven-point-six TRILLION fucking dollars across his first term and this unfinished second one.
They’d convene a congressional inquisition over a poor woman’s premium paper towels while their bankruptcy-baptized fucking messiah treats a trillion dollars like he’s breaking a twenty.
But please, tell us more about the grandchildren. They’re always so concerned about leaving debt to the grandchildren. Until Grandpa needs another electoral ego massage, at which point apparently little Brayden can get a second fucking job.
The party of fiscal responsibility, my ass. These pauper-policing, plutocrat-petting deficit disciples are backing a promise with a trillion-dollar price tag to improve the customer reviews on their own shitty fucking performance.
And hold the fuck on. Weren’t we already getting five large from DOGE?
Elon, that chainsaw-brandishing, chest-thumping technofeudal twat and professional sperm spreader, tore through Washington while Trump floated sharing the savings. We got the chainsaw. We got the cuts. We did not get the fucking check.
I’ve received more actual cash from the washing machine.
The two-grand tariff rebates haven’t arrived either, which Stormy Daniels could’ve warned you is kind of his thing.
When The New York Times asked about it, this bronzer-brained, bloviating blowhard said, “I did do that? When did I do that?” Then he said the money would come later in the year.
Now the Geriatric Grift-of-the-Month Club is promising the sequel.
Wonderful. Another five thousand dollars I can’t spend. I’m almost not buying a fucking boat. I’ll name it Insufficient Funds and christen it with the champagne I didn’t order and can’t afford.
But don’t worry, because JD Vance, that oleaginous ottoman enthusiast, says tariffs could cover this trillion-dollar campaign coupon. The same import taxes we’re refunding by the fucking billions.
Even the Kohl’s cashier working through an edible understands a fucking return.
You can’t keep spending the receipt after you’ve given the money back. And even the tariffs we keep don’t magically become Donald Trump’s personal checking account. This hush-money Houdini wants to play sugar daddy with OUR credit card.
“Daddy bought you groceries!”
Daddy, that’s my fucking Discover card. You can’t pilfer my purse, buy me a pound of pastrami, and expect me to start calling you Big Poppa.
And why the fuck are we letting him near the purse in the first place? This Fozzie Bear with a four-foot tie bankrupted casinos.
Just fucking think about that. Think how hard you have to try to suck to bankrupt a casino. People walked in specifically to lose money, and he still managed to beat them to it.
Now this fiduciary fuckwit is promising five grand without an approved payment or a delivery date. At least the fucking Tooth Fairy tells you when to check the pillow. Nobody makes a six-year-old wait for his molar money until Pennsylvania demonstrates sufficient fealty.
But I’m supposed to sit here and clap like a trained seal because this slippery, spray-tanned, self-dealing, solipsistic snake-oil salesman has discovered that people who need money would enjoy receiving some?
Yes, Donald. I fucking KNOW people need money. We all need money. We need even more of it since your tantrum tariffs made the shit we were already struggling to afford more fucking expensive. You don’t get to slap a surcharge on surviving and then expect me to genuflect because you’ve waved a checkbook in the general direction of my overdraft.
I’d fucking love five thousand dollars. I’d love to replace my brakes without briefly considering whether Fred Flintstone had the right fucking idea. But I can be broke without volunteering to be bamboozled. Needing help with the bills doesn’t mean I’ve agreed to let this predatory, pomade-plastered prick use my financial anxiety to finish paying off his political mortgage.
And he’s counting on us needing that money badly enough to vote like it’s already in the fucking bank.
He doesn’t need to pay you before November.
He just needs you to believe him when he says he will.
But how fucking stupid do you have to be to fall for this shit?
Remember The Boy Who Cried Wolf? The intended audience still occasionally shits its pants, and even THEY grasp that you stop believing the fucking liar.
You shidiots finished it and demanded an investigation into who was funding the sheep.
He’s buying your loyalty on layaway, and you’re making the fucking payments.
And if you’re dumb enough, gullible enough, enough of a pudding-brained, promise-gobbling patsy to believe he’s going to deliver on this latest dangled fucking carrot after more than a dozen promises just like it that he suddenly doesn’t even fucking remember making, then you deserve to get fucking fleeced.
