Of all the riotously funny song parodies that ran on the late, lamented Rush Limbaugh radio program, this here one is my hands-down favorite. Don’t know for sure if it’s Paul Shanklin or not, but I assume so.
The bit where the Yugo driver “swerves to miss a baby duck” and then gets “squashed by a produce truck” makes me laugh till my sides ache every single time.
What better lead-in to the 4th of July holiday weekend than some good old all-American music?
The Aaron Copland-inspired theme for The Magnificent Seven was, of course, composed in the Year of Our Lord 1960 (the year of my birth, actually—GOD, I’m old!) by one Elmer Bernstein, who I assume from the surname is one of them dirty, filthy, genocidal ***(((JooJooJooJOOOOOZ!!)))***
Update! Just gotta inclusde this: what has to be my personal all-time favorite cover version, a surf-twangy instro laid down by the aptly named John Barry Seven.
WHOA, that’s good squishy!
Tons of chatter about Uwe Bolt’s magnum opus out there, some pro, some con, but if this extended 7.5-minute snippet doesn’t motivate you to watch the whole thing, you’re probably a damned liberal.
Update! Direct, do-it-yourself justice is busting out all over, looks like.
Mexican Batman Duct-Tapes Alleged Motorcycle Thieves to Lamp Posts
A vigilante nicknamed ‘Batman of Lagos de Moreno’ has become known in the Mexican state of Jalisco for tying alleged motorcycle thieves to lamp postsTired of waiting for local police to do their duty and bring criminals to justice, a mysterious vigilante in the town of Lagos de Moreno, Mexico’s Jalisco state, has been duct-taping alleged motorcycle thieves to lamp posts and leaving them for authorities to find. At least five ‘victims’ have been found so far.
The mysterious ‘Batman’ started operating in Lagos de Moreno in mid-June. The first person was found duct-taped to a lamp post, with ‘thief’ written on his forehead, on June 13th. An allegedly stolen motorcycle was also found nearby, suggesting that the immobilized person was a thief. But this was only the beginning, as police have since discovered at least 4 other alleged thieves tied to lamp posts.
Yes, there are pictures, and they’re hilarious. Unfortunately, the “proper authorities” appear to have learned nothing whatsoever from all this (bold mine).
Although most people seem convinced this crusade against alleged motorcycle thieves is the work of a single vigilante, local authorities told news reporters that this might be the work of a gang of vigilantes. Interestingly, so far, the victims have not provided any clarification in that regard.
Jalisco’s Secretary of Public Security, Juan Pablo Hernández, reported that investigations are underway to clarify the attacks and locate those involved. He also emphasized that the five men found bound so far are currently being treated as victims, adding that no one should take the law into their own hands, regardless of their motives.
Yeah well, sorry to have to hip ya to it and all, pal, but people are only gonna take so much official crim-coddling, excuse-making, and hands-off, lackadaisical “policing” before they r’are up on their hind legs and start taking care of business for themselves. Expecting otherwise from them is a mug’s game, at best.
Remember, duct-taping the thieving skin-bags to a lamp post is the MODERATE response.
Via my daily Quora Digest email: question asked, question answered. Well, kinda sorta.
Who was the most boring rock star?
I was the music director of a popular college rock station in the early 1980s, and as such, had the opportunity to interview or sit in on interviews with a lot of touring acts, whose A&R people would dutifully bring them by to help boost interest and airplay.I can tell you there were a few good ones. David Johansen was boisterous and hilarious. Greg Kihn was cool and folksy. Steve Perry and Neil Schon of Journey probably would’ve been a great interview, but we were all punky and new wavy and our edgy drive time guy insulted them so they stormed off the set. Definitely not boring. And Nick Lowe was charming, clever, and full of stories, including a few about his longtime pal and running mate, Dave Edmunds.
You know who was boring as…well, really boring? Dave Edmunds! I don’t know if he was strung out from the road the day we got him, or bummed out to be stuck with a bunch of snooty kids, or whatever, but man, you could not crowbar a word from him. He just slouched in the chair, issuing monosyllabic grunts and such, until the interview mercifully ended.
The guy could really put on a show, and he was an amazing guitarist, and who even knows what he was like in real life back in the day, but in my sole encounter, for whatever reason, he was the most boring rock star. Hopefully someone has a story to counter this impression, so I can put the blame on me.
Been there done that myself, I’m afraid. One of the most embarrassing occasions of my whole life had to be the time we went to a local college radio station the morning after a gig in NOLA for an interview session. It being N’Awlins and all, naturally we weren’t merely hung over when we got there, we were still drunk as boiled owls. So every question received a mumbled, semi-coherent one or two word response. The poor DJ was totally at sea trying to make us sound lively and interesting, poor bastid.
And now for something completely different.
Although I never was what anybody would call a huge fan of Neil Young—when I was a teenager we used to laugh him off as “Neil DUNG”—I do have tremendous respect for his songwriting skills, which are damned near miraculous; the above is probably the best example of that I know of offhand. “Don’t Let It Bring You Down” has been covered by everybody and his sister’s cat’s grandmother by now, and I do mean EVERYBODY: Annie Lennox, the Cowboy Junkies, Chris Cornell, Guns & Roses (!!!), and Paul McCartney, just to name a few. That constitutes a pretty dang powerful endorsement all on its own, actually.
It’s an achingly lovely, haunting tune, both melodically and lyrics-wise, about which Young himself once sardonicized:
On (CSN&Y’s 1971 live album) 4 Way Street, Young says, “Here is a new song, it’s guaranteed to bring you right down, it’s called ‘Don’t Let It Bring You Down’. It sorta starts off real slow and then fizzles out altogether.” The crowd then roars with laughter.
As well they might’ve. In Korb’s jazz-trio version above, what Salieri said in Amadeus of Mozart’s work is even more apropos: Displace one note and there would be diminishment. Displace one phrase and the structure would fall.
Update! Having recently discussed the vital importance of phrasing to any vocal performance, irrespective of musical genre, I would be remiss not to call Ms Korb’s impeccable style to y’all’s attention. Keep a close ear on that piano break, also.
Leave it to the fine folks at the Bee to get right to the meat of the matter.
— The Babylon Bee (@TheBabylonBee)
Heh. Who indeed.
Update! Via Stephen, another excellent Xweet that I felt really needed to be on the main page here too.
The people who created 40 Trillion in debt are angry that Elon Musk created 1 Trillion in wealth.
— Andrew Wilkow (@WilkowMajority)
The ones that really slay me are the ones who, like lying douchenozzle, shithouse pud-puller, and serial female-abuser Adolf Platner, think it’s FederalGovCo’s job to see to it that it never, ever happens again. Just who the actual fuck do you goobermint wastrels think you are, anyhow?
This one is popping up everywhere today, and with good reason: it perfectly encapsulates liberal shibboleths about open borders, feral nig-nogs, RAYCISSISSISM!™, and the innate superiority of violent, savage boogaloos imported from the Dark Continent and foisted onto an advanced civilization they are in no way, shape, or form either interested in or capable of assimilating into.
Too bad the original line-up sucked out loud also.
Funny https://t.co/qfg6VUlp2F
— Adam Carolla (@adamcarolla)
Why? Oh, no reason, I just felt like saying it.
🚨 LMAO!! President Trump just dropped this absolute GEM: He's filling the newly improved Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool with leftist tears
Straight from the source 🤣🤣
📽️ @TheRicanMemes pic.twitter.com/NJrOdFR750
— Eric Daugherty (@EricLDaugh) June 4, 2026
Heh.
1
1The Hut is back, baybeee.
Pizza Hut brings back its old-school restaurant features as nostalgic customers rejoice: ‘So excited’
Back to the good old days.2026 has proven to be the year of nostalgia. Youngsters are resorting to old-school tech like vintage flip phones and iPods. Others are returning to analog hobbies and activities.
Even beloved restaurant chain Pizza Hut is going back in time, reverting to its retro glory — red checkered tablecloths and all.
Tim Sparks, president of Daland Corporation, a Kansas-based company that operates almost 100 Pizza Hut locations across the country, is helping keep Pizza Hut alive by rewinding the clock and redecorating over 80 annoyingly modern, stark-looking locations to make them look like they did decades ago.
Red roof? Check
Red-checkered tablecloths, vinyl booths and Tiffany-style lamps? Check, check and check.
The beloved salad bar and red plastic cups will be back.
Even the old-school Pac-Man machines will return.
Unsurprisingly, customers are losing their minds over this massive change.
As well they might—although, as a few others in the NYP article point out, what WON’T be coming back is the original recipe for the various pizzas and such-like. FederalGovCo banned all the ingredients decades ago, see. For our own good, of course and as always.
Why, whatever would we do without them? Surely there must be some way we could try just to find out, isn’t there?
Re the death earlier this week of David Allan Coe, a Fakeberg friend of mine posted this and I just had to swipe it.
As someone else said in the comments over at FB, you see this photo and you just KNOW some crazy shit’s getting ready to start. Heh. Indeed.
The perfect country song.
BACKSTORY: At NYC’s great old dive-bar, the Village Idiot (the original on 1st Ave, that would be, not the later incarnation over on W 14th), whenever the above tune came on the jukebox, whoever was tending bar would crank it waaaay up, every fist in the joint would be raised high in the air in gleeful defiance of…whatever, and every hoarse, cracked, alcohol-dehydrated voice would sing along with every last syllable. I tells ya, it was some of the most fun I ever did have in my life.
My old roomie Lisa bartended at the Idiot on Wednesday afternoons, and most of those days she’d call me at home around 5 or so demanding that I get down there right away because she was lonely and bored to tears by then. Afternoons tended to be kinda dull at the Idiot; the place didn’t really start to approach escape velocity until around ten or so, see.
Which request for company I was always quite happy to oblige. This reminiscence might convey some of the cheap-beer-sodden ambience of that truly magical place.
THE VILLAGE IDIOT
When I was 19 years old, I got a job working at a bar on the Lower East Side in New York City. You would’ve thought I had gotten into Harvard by how happy I was. The place, The Village Idiot, was a popular hole in the wall on 1st Avenue and 10th Street – far from Harvard.The owner, Tommy, was a giant Irish guy with an afro. Tommy was from Queens, and his success came from the authenticity of the bar he opened. Everyone loved him and his bar. There was nothing self-conscious about The Village Idiot, or Tommy, for that matter. He was a generous, kind man who loved to party and everybody loved him for it.
So that was Tommy – he was the brand and the bar was his product. Just like any great product, it was honest. It was honest because it was exactly the kind of place Tommy would have hung out had he not opened it himself. It was not a concept, and the people that came there intuitively knew that, so they came back, and they always brought a friend.
The Idiot, as it was lovingly referred to, was a narrow, dank “box car,” but not as big. There was a juke box up front that was on from the moment we opened at 10:00 am until the time we closed – sometimes 4:00 am, sometimes 2:00 am. This was dependent on how drunk Tommy got that night. One of his “tells” was if he came in licking his lips, hide the money. If his lips were dry, you were probably going to be okay.
The juke box was stocked with a collection of country music that was vast, impressive, and perfect. “The Box” had to be full blast at all times. Tommy lived above the bar – and he would call down, “Turn the box up! I can’t hear it.” We sold Pabst Blue Ribbon in a can for a dollar, and Tommy would occasionally bite the middle out of a can of beer to thrill his patrons if things seemed a little slow.
All of the bartenders were women, and were encouraged to drink with the customers. I started making fake pitchers of kamikaze shots because I would get so drunk I couldn’t do my job. Literally – I could not function. I’d pour you a real shot and I’d drink watered down kamikaze mix. No one ever caught me or cared. We were not allowed to wear hats behind the bar because Tommy said that was bad luck.
Another thing I well remember about the Idiot was something the girls working behind the stick called “the Idiot Virgin Ceremony,” a privilege reserved for those lucky souls who were experiencing their very first trip to the seedy, smelly little joint.
See, the unsuspecting newb was required to sit on a barstool with his back to the bar, bending his torso far enough back so that his head rested atop the bar. The on-duty bartendress would then tuck a rolled-up towel around the victim’s neck below his chin to cope with any potential overspill, grab a fifth of bourbon and one of tequila, clamber up onto the bar, straddle the victim’s head, squat down, and turn up both bottles into the guy’s mouth, inevitably splashing raw booze all over said victim’s face, neck, head, and shoulders. The vic had been sternly instructed beforehand that he was NOT to raise his head off the bar, scream for rescue, or in any way refuse the “service” he was being provided as an Idiot Virgin, on pain of punishment most dire.
I learned about the IVC when my friend Joe came up to visit from North Cackalacky, and Lisa did it to him. They ended up falling in love L-U-V, whereupon she moved out of our cramped shithole on Ave B and down to NC and in with him, staying together for several years before the formerly happy couple blew apart like an A-bomb.
I checked the Morehead City PD’s Fakeberg page and no shit, it’s for real.
As I said to a cpl friends of mine earlier: I would drive a hundred MPH right through the middle of Morehead City just to get pulled over by that thing, then resist arrest so’s I could get a look inside. The cop-shop Wienermobile is not merely cool as some cucumbers, it’s fucking GLORIOUS.
Once upon a time, there was a lovely old song went a little something like this:
Now, down the years since it was written there have been many versions of this particular song cut by many artists, many of them females. I just used this one because, I mean, come ON, man, it’s Nat King Cole—of COURSE I did!
Which is not germane to the central point of this post; no, this remarkable story of marketing superdupergenius is.
Los Angeles Rams Cheerleaders
The Los Angeles Rams Cheerleaders are the official National Football League cheerleading squad representing the Los Angeles Rams team.History
They were established in 1974 during the team’s original tenure in Los Angeles and were known as the Embraceable Ewes. The cheerleading organization became known as the “St. Louis Rams Cheerleaders” when the team moved to St. Louis, Missouri. Beginning with the 2016 NFL season, the organization changed its name to the “Los Angeles Rams Cheerleaders” to associate themselves with the recently relocated Los Angeles Rams football team. They also have their own television show by the name of LA Rams Cheerleaders: Making the Squad.
Heh. Bold mine, because I absolutely love it.
And now, ladies and germs, are you ready for…Batgirl?
Yep, that’s the one, the only Yvonne Craig, also seen below.
Tally friggin’ HO!!! (Special thanks to Dave Dietz for the supercalifragilistic YC photo up top)
Update! Well how ‘bout that: Turns out the smokin’ hot Miss Y was also on ST-TOS back in the day.
Updated update! As promised/threatened, for SteveF.
Julie Newmar. Also Julie Newmar:
YOWSA!!!
Update to the updated update! Now THIS is what I’m talking about, people.
I repeat: YOWSA!!!
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"America is at that awkward stage. It's too late to work within the system, but too early to shoot the bastards."
—Claire Wolfe, 101 Things to Do 'Til the Revolution
Claire's Cabal—The Freedom Forums
"There are men in all ages who mean to govern well, but they mean to govern. They promise to be good masters, but they mean to be masters."
—Daniel Webster
“When I was young I was depressed all the time. But suicide no longer seemed a possibility in my life. At my age there was very little left to kill.”
—Charles Bukowski
“A slave is one who waits for someone to come and free him.”
—Ezra Pound
“The illusion of freedom will continue as long as it’s profitable to continue the illusion. At the point where the illusion becomes too expensive to maintain, they will just take down the scenery, they will pull back the curtains, they will move the tables and chairs out of the way and you will see the brick wall at the back of the theater.”
—Frank Zappa
“The right of a nation to kill a tyrant in case of necessity can no more be doubted than to hang a robber, or kill a flea.”
—John Adams
"A society of sheep must in time beget a government of wolves."
—Bertrand de Jouvenel
"It is terrible to contemplate how few politicians are hanged."
—GK Chesterton
"I predict that the Bush administration will be seen by freedom-wishing Americans a generation or two hence as the hinge on the cell door locking up our freedom. When my children are my age, they will not be free in any recognizably traditional American meaning of the word. I’d tell them to emigrate, but there’s nowhere left to go. I am left with nauseating near-conviction that I am a member of the last generation in the history of the world that is minimally truly free."
—Donald Sensing
"The only way to live free is to live unobserved."
—Etienne de la Boiete
"History does not long entrust the care of freedom to the weak or the timid."
—Dwight D. Eisenhower
"To put it simply, the Left is the stupid and the insane, led by the evil. You can’t persuade the stupid or the insane and you had damn well better fight the evil."
—Skeptic
"There is no better way to stamp your power on people than through the dead hand of bureaucracy. You cannot reason with paperwork."
—David Black, from Turn Left For Gibraltar
"If the laws of God and men, are therefore of no effect, when the magistracy is left at liberty to break them; and if the lusts of those who are too strong for the tribunals of justice, cannot be otherwise restrained than by sedition, tumults and war, those seditions, tumults and wars, are justified by the laws of God and man."
—John Adams
"The limits of tyranny are prescribed by the endurance of those whom they oppress."
—Frederick Douglass
"Give me the media and I will make of any nation a herd of swine."
—Joseph Goebbels
“I hope we once again have reminded people that man is not free unless government is limited. There’s a clear cause and effect here that is as neat and predictable as a law of physics: As government expands, liberty contracts.”
—Ronald Reagan
"Ain't no misunderstanding this war. They want to rule us and aim to do it. We aim not to allow it. All there is to it."
—NC Reed, from Parno's Peril
"I just want a government that fits in the box it originally came in."
—Bill Whittle
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