Posts

Posted on

Sunday Celebration

let’s start off with a bang — and put the hero of the day right up top. ladies and gents, I give you the Poet Laureate of No Kings Day.

we did it, folks. an estimated five million of us gathered peacefully coast to coast, to rise up as one and convey a singular message: fuck off, Donny Convict — you’re not our king.

just feast your eyes on this compilation of protests in large cities and small towns.

If your hope for US democracy bucket is feeling a little low, top it up with this.

– Medha Murtagh

Read on Substack


meanwhile, check out the weak-ass shit that was going on in DC.

oof. how embarrassing.

ace job, Donny. you just humiliated our military, forcing them to march past almost-empty stands.

where are the cheering crowds? where is the inspiring music? it’s so deathly quiet. all you hear is the squeaking of tank treads.

once again, this is what happens when you fire everyone in government who knows how to get shit done.

Donny spent 45 million dollars on this underwhelming, half-baked shit-show. where did all that money go? has anyone checked Donny’s bank account?

just look at the massive crowd ghost town that assembled in front of the White House viewing stand, where Dear Leader sat.

m pretty sure there was a larger crowd for the puppet show that Spinal Tap opened for.

there was def a larger crowd at the No Kings protest in New York City.

and also in Los Angeles.

for fuck’s sake, even the No Kings protest in Knoxville, TN — a city that Trump won in 2024 by 20-plus points — was larger than the one that showed up for Dear Leader’s ego party.

check out President Saddy McSadsad. let’s enjoy a full minute and a half of Dear Leader looking unhappy as fuck about his big birthday parade going bust.

too bad. so sad. boo fucking hoo.

bro, I got you a present. look, it’s a tiny violin — and it’s playing Happy Birthday, You Fucking Loser.

doesn’t Dear Leader’s Slovenian trophy wife look like she’s trying not to burst out laughing?

once again, the Great Bullshit Artist promised spectacle and delivered warmed-over garbage.

when all is said and done, should any of us really be surprised that the guy who failed at running a real estate empire, and failed at running casinos, and failed at running an airline, and failed at running a football team, and failed at running an economy, and failed at fighting a pandemic, and failed as a president, and failed as a human being, has now failed at putting on a dictator parade?

how nice for Donny, though, that he still has the worthless scribblers of the corporate-controlled media to carry his water. look at The New York Times, desperately trying to wash the stench of failure off Donny’s debacle.

Perhaps by design, though, the day was somewhat more restrained than other displays Mr. Trump has praised, such as Bastille Day celebrations in France.

“perhaps by design” — yeah, that’s it. Donny wanted his vanity dictator parade to suck. once again, Dear Leader is playing n-dimensional chess on a level that the rest of us smoothbrains can’t hope to fathom.

go peddle that shit somewhere else, NY Times. we’re all stocked up today.

oh, and while we’re doing a little hating on our failed institutions: the Los Angeles Police Department can go fuck itself, royally.

after an entire day of millions of people in thousands of protests, all peacefully exercising their First Amendment right to assemble, and seconds after an MSNBC reporter said, “I want to reiterate this has been 100% peaceful,” the LAPD — without provocation, and for no reason at all — moved in and began firing tear gas and flash-bangs.

fuck those fucking fucks. it’s time for more heroes.

here’s one.

hey, it’s Bob Clendenin!

every word of this woman’s sign is true.

so is every word of this guy’s sign.

more truth.

truth, everywhere you look.

we thank you for your service, dude.

and mad props to whoever created this inspiring image of Dear Leader.

let’s feel good about ourselves, folks. we did it.

Preznit Fuckwit might try, but he’s never going to break our spirit.

have a great Sunday and a great Father’s Day, everyone.

0 comments

Posted on

Remember When These Were THE Status Symbol?

I could never really afford LaCoste; in the early 80s, they were $25 a pop, well beyond what my budget would allow at the time. I did have a rainbow of colors from Brittania, however.

At one point I did manage to buy the real deal. It was red, and I never wore it much because I got a size too small and was too naive to realize I could take it back and exchange it—even after I’d washed it.

June, 1983

In much later years I have been able to snag a few gently used alligators from eBay. Terribly out of fashion these days, but I still love them. Put one on, dab some Halston Z-14 behind my ears and I’m 25 years old with a 31-inch waist again.

1 comments

Posted on

We live in a world that in times past if you saw an outrageous headline online you’d automatically laugh it off as satire. Everything has gotten so fucked in the last six months however that you now actually have to verify that it’s from the ONION and not something that really happened.

0 comments

Posted on

???? ???? ????

A driver was stuck in a traffic jam on the highway outside Washington, DC Nothing was moving.

Suddenly, a man knocks on the window.

The driver rolls down the window and asks, “What’s going on?”

“Terrorists have kidnapped the entire US Congress, and they’re asking for a $100 million dollar ransom. Otherwise, they are going to douse them all in gasoline and set them on fire. We are going from car to car, collecting donations.”

“How much is everyone giving, on average?” the driver asks.

The man replies, “Roughly a gallon.”

0 comments

Posted on
KAITLAN COLLINS: So you agree that people who break in and vandalize a building should be prosecuted?
JD VANCE: Yes
COLLINS: Ok, I’m just checking, because you helped raise money for people who did so on January 6

0 comments

Posted on

Adorable

I could live in any of them (assuming fully modern interior finishes), but for practicality sake, I’m going to have to go with the first one only because it has three bedrooms.

Thanks, Rick!

0 comments

Posted on

We Will Survive This

“Right, Bubba?”

I’m not talking about the Middle East being inches away from WWIII, or the  latest attempted power grab by the orange clown in the White House. No, this time it’s more personal.

As many—if not most—of you know, I was diagnosed with laryngeal cancer back in 2003. Through a combination of fortunate events (and damn good medical care), I came through it—although not without some battle scars—and have been cancer free for the last two decades.

Everything’s been good, but lately I’ve been having more than the usual difficulty (a long-term effect of that previous course of radiation) swallowing. Stuff was getting caught on the way down, and while I’ve been able to successfully hack it back up and get it down on a second try, I was concerned enough that one day I reached down my throat and felt something—odd—on the back of my tongue. I made an appointment with my ENT. He ordered a CT scan and the results came back clear. Still, he shoved that infamous scope up my nose and down my throat and saw a spot where things had been getting caught. “Probably just an ulcer,” he said, “but with your history let’s be sure.”

I was supposed to go in for a biopsy yesterday, but when I went in on Tuesday for my pre-op screening, we discovered that I was never told to discontinue one of my medications, so now it’s rescheduled for this coming Monday.

It’s not my first biopsy; it’s usually an in-and-out the same day thing, but last time I had one done (this past November) I ended up in the hospital for several days because my blood-oxygen was remaining stubbornly low post-op. They finally decided that I had some kind of non-specific pulmonary infection and sent me home with a strong antibiotic and oxygen. It resolved itself in about a week, my numbers climbed back into the mid 90s and the oxygen generator went back.

But this time, as I got the pre-op paperwork from my insurance it mentioned not only the laryngoscopy with biopsy (expected), but also partial glossectomy. WTF? He’s planning on cutting out a part of my tongue? This was not discussed. I spoke at length with a good friend who’s been a nurse since probably I was in high school who managed to talk me off the ledge. She said that particular line item was in there because it was pretty standard, CYA stuff—especially with Medicare—in case he got in there, discovered it was not just an ulcer, and decided to excise the whole thing immediately.

This still has me a little freaked, mostly because of not knowing how it’s going to affect speech and swallowing if he decides to take out a chunk of the back of my tongue for however long it takes for it to heal. And then of course, if the biopsy comes back as malignant, then there’s all that to deal with, which—having been to that rodeo once already—I am most definitely not looking forward to going through again.

So if I go quiet—no pun intended—for some time after Monday, it’s because I have other things on my mind…

6 comments