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Mood

Now it’s Ben’s turn to have his 2017 MacBook Pro sent off for top-case replacement. He was having slightly different problems, but since EVERYTHING on these machines is apparently soldered/glued in place, individual parts can’t be swapped out.

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A Question For My Fellow Dog Owners/Companions

Well, it’s now two a.m. and despite the fact I was exhausted when I crawled into bed, after tossing and turning since midnight with absolutely no sleep in sight, I decided it was time to get up for a bit. I popped two of those little purple gel caps marketed as “night time sleep aids”—in reality absolutely nothing more than repackaged Benadryl—and hope they will make me sleepy enough to quiet my overactive thoughts. Yeah, I know I’ll be useless tomorrow, but at this point it’s worth it.

In the meantime, I haven’t done a poll on this here blog thingie for a while, so why not?

If your furry little friends sleep with you, where do they sleep? I was raised that the goggies ALWAYS sleep ON the covers and NEVER under.
[polldaddy poll=9951584]

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Oh, Sah-NAP!

Yesterday the Dotard-in-Chief spewed this bit of gibberish on Twitter, originally referring to Alec as “Alex.” I guess one of his minions got word of the very public LOL that resulted and corrected it:

Of course, Mr. Baldwin was having none of the Dotard’s bullshit, and fired back:

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Friday

That feeling you get when you realize you’ve made it through another work week and the Orange Shitgibbon in the White House hasn’t started WWIII.

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America is a Gun

England is a cup of tea.
France, a wheel of ripened brie.
Greece, a short, squat olive tree.
America is a gun.

Brazil is football on the sand.
Argentina, Maradona’s hand.
Germany, an oompah band.
America is a gun.

Holland is a wooden shoe.
Hungary, a goulash stew.
Australia, a kangaroo.
America is a gun.

Japan is a thermal spring.
Scotland is a highland fling.
Oh, better to be anything
than America as a gun.

Brian Bilston

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Stumbled Upon

From Back Of The Cereal Box. Every last word rings true:

Last weekend I went to a barber for the first time in six years, not to attend to anything on the top of my head (as I’ve been seeing to that myself) but to allow a professional to tidy up my mustache. For a relatively small sum of money, my mustache got twenty minutes’ worth of snipping and shaping, and I got some tips on how I can keep it looking good until the next time I make an appointment. I highly recommend it.

While sitting the the chair, the barber asked me why I chose to grow this thing in the first place, and I actually didn’t know how to answer. Here, then, is every possible reason I can think of.

  • Because the fact that I’ve had a buzzed head for the last six years has limited what I can do to change my appearance, and growing a mustache seemed like a shorter-term investment than a face tattoo
  • Because manliness?
  • But similarly and separately to connect with my heritage as a gay homosexual
  • To repulse women
  • More specifically to make a woman in front of me in line at the grocery store glance back, glance back again and then none-too-discreetly slip into another line, presumably because she thought I looked like a creep
  • To look like a creep, maybe
  • To provoke female acquaintances who have never otherwise commented on my physical appearance to tell me that they hate my mustache and that I should remove it
  • Apparently to make twentysomethings on various apps begin conversations with “Hey, daddy” or something thereabouts
  • So that when I take an Instagram selfie and have it show up on my Tumblr my photo then gets reblogged on various fetish sites of varying levels of NSFW-ness
  • To give myself a single distinguishing physical characteristic (finally)
  • To draw attention away from my unpleasant personality
  • Because I’d grown accustomed to the various asymmetricalities of my body and needed a new one to obsess over
  • If I’m being really honest, I may have grown it to punk my friend, who’d invited me to be a groomsmen in his wedding but whose bride did not include facial hair stylings on her PDFed guide to appropriate groomsmen looks
  • And to continue that honestly, I’ve kept it maybe because I think his bride suspects that this was the case and I’m scared she will beat me up if she knew that I’d made an effort to become “that random guy with a mustache” in her wedding photos
  • Because the groom himself cannot grow one
  • Because neither my brother nor my father can grow one, now that I think about it
  • Because I knew I’d be getting a dog who had his own killer facial hair game  and we needed to match
  • Because I felt I’d mastered the art of eating and sneezing and needed to complicate both those actions in order to challenge myself
  • Because years of playing Nintendo games have led to me realize that I’m more of a Luigi than a Mario
  • Sex stuff
  • And finally because Stupid Sexy Flanders is too good of a Halloween costume to pass up

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Quote of the Day

The suggestion of arming the teachers in response to school shootings is really not that surprising As a nation we have hoisted pretty much every social problem onto teachers, expecting schools to be the solution for everything from unemployment to teen pregnancy and the war on drugs, all the while cutting their funding and lambasting them as being lazy and selfish when they demand to be paid. They are solution, scapegoat, and sacrificial lamb rolled into one.” ~ Jason Read

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Quote Of The Day

None of us are getting out of here alive, so please stop treating yourself like an afterthought. Eat the delicious food. Walk in the sunshine. Jump in the ocean. Say the truth that you’re carrying in your heart like hidden treasure. Be silly. Be kind. Be weird. There’s no time for anything else.” ~ Sir Anthony Hopkins

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How To Really Screw With the Gun Addicts

“Guns don’t kill people. People kill people.” A key argument that is often heard in the gun debate. I was thinking about this and realized something. Unless you bludgeon someone to death with a gun, I guess you could say there is some truth to it. Guns themselves don’t necessarily kill people. Before everyone gets up in arms (pun intended) over my apparent defense of the indefensible, let me throw out this little thought nugget.

Perhaps we are focusing too much attention on banning assault rifles and other various firearms. Perhaps we are wasting our breath on what age you need to be to purchase a gun. Perhaps we need to give the NRA some breathing room and redirect our efforts to a different potential solution to save lives.

How about…we ban the ammo? Seriously.

Give anyone a gun who wants it. Man, woman, child. Shotgun, rifle… hell, give them an Uzi. Let the people who think they need to tote a frighteningly large firearm to appear intimidating and strong the opportunity to fulfill their warped dream. And let them loose like Ralphie with his Red Ryder on Christmas morning. With an empty shell that delivers nothing more than air, thoughts, and prayers.

You see, a gun is merely a vehicle that transports life-ending bullets into the victims. If we can keep the bullets out, the gun is rendered useless. I realize this is completely out of the box and logistically near impossible. But it’s an example of the thinking we will need to deploy in order to drive positive change in these times to counter this rabbit hole world we’ve fallen into. Plus it’s fun to envision a bunch of grown men running around with useless pieces of weaponry making high-pitched “Pew pew pew” noises. Just saying.

Source.

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