You KNOW It’s True
See: Hypocrisy
What Are You Waiting For?
Ooh! That Left a Mark!
All Right, Forced Birthers, Here’s Your Chance
Impressive Photoshop Skills
On Your Knees, Little Ones!
For Those Of You Who Missed It (Like Me)
I’m Old Enough To Remember When Nixon Was The Ultimate Asshole President
Oh Snap!
This is Who They Are
Shriveling Into Meaningless Trivialities As The Enormity of This Scandal Grows Overwhelming
Via Wil Wheaton
Cassidy Hutchinson’s testimony about Jan. 6 continues to drive brutal headlines for Donald Trump across the country. Leading analysts are describing her revelations as alternately devastating, emotionally powerful and historic. Others are comparing her depiction of the former president’s insurrection to the most deranged presidential moments in U.S. history.
Yet Trump’s propagandists have found an answer. They are claiming Hutchinson’s appearance was a flop, based on the fact that a single anecdote about Trump — one barely related to the central allegations against him — is now being questioned by a handful of bit players in this saga who aren’t even offering this pushback publicly, let alone under oath.
In addition to providing an object lesson in how pro-Trump propaganda functions, this buffoonery reveals just how weak Trump’s defenses have become. The pushback is shriveling into meaningless trivialities even as the enormity of this scandal grows overwhelming.
Trump’s defense against Cassidy Hutchinson’s Jan. 6 testimony is full of holes
The Abortion Debate
The Kids Are Alright
Triptych
I Know It’s Childish, But…
Cowboys Are Frequently Secretly Fond of Each Other
No.
And The Answer Is…
I’m Not Pro-Murdering Babies
Yeah, Like That
365 Days of UNF: Day 180
Who Wants Cake?
Released 48 Years Ago Today
Damn, I feel old.
Elton John: Caribou (1974)
This was the first EJ album I bought. In fact, it may be the first rock album I ever bought, come to think of it. All I remember was my mother was aghast.
She was very judgey when it came to my music. I remember an incident years after Caribou when she came in my room, picked up the sleeve of Mike Oldfield’s Ommadawn, and asked, “Who’s he trying to look like, Jesus Christ himself?”
She liked most of my disco tunes, however.
My dad on the other hand, only once commented on anything he heard coming out of my room, and that was Karen Carpenter. “She sounds like a cow mooing!”



















































