It’s a-coming

Midwest Chick says “if you don’t laugh too, I’m not sure we can be friends.” Seconded, with all my heart and soul.


Usually, that huge schlong points outward from DC towards the rest of the country, so this makes for a refreshing change of pace.

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The “organic” scam

Gee, color me shocked, I did NOT see this coming.

Factory Farming is Better Than Organic Farming
Some narratives are simply ubiquitous in our culture (every culture has its universal narratives). Sometimes these narratives emerge out of shared values, like liberty and freedom. Sometimes they emerge out of foundational beliefs (the US still has a puritanical bent). And sometimes they are the product of decades of marketing. Marketing-based narratives deserve incredible scrutiny because they are crafted to alter the commercial decision-making of people in society, not for the benefit of society or the public, but for the benefit of an industry. For example, I have tried to expose the fallacy of the “natural is always good, and chemicals are always bad” narrative. Nature, actually, is quite indifferent to humanity, and everything is made of chemicals.

Another narrative that is based entirely on propaganda meant to favor one industry and demonize its competition is the notion that organic farming is better for health and better for the environment. Actually, there is no evidence of any nutritional or health advantage from consuming organic produce. Further – and most people I talk to find this claim shocking – organic farming is worse for the environment than conventional or even “factory” farming. Stick with me and I will explain why this is the case.

A recent article in the NYT by Michael Grunwald nicely summarizes what I have been saying for years. First let me explain why I think there is such a disconnect between reality and public perception. This gets back to the narrative idea – people tend to view especially complex situations through simplistic narratives that give them a sense of understanding. We all do this because the world is complicated and we have to break it down. There is nothing inherently wrong with this – we use schematic, categories, and diagrams to simplify complex reality and chunk it into digestible bits. But we have to understand this is what we are doing, and how this may distort our understanding of reality. There are also better and worse ways to do this.

One of my verymost favorite John Ringo novels, The Last Centurion, gets waaaaay into the weeds on the “organic” versus factory-farm tussle, which lovingly detailed digressions I found completely fascinating, as well as highly educational. So no, the above in-depth expose doesn’t surprise me all that much.

I may or may not have brought this up here before, but for quite a few years there my good friend Al and his ol’ lady Lisa (one of my former NYC roomies who moved down to CLT for good after a disastrous romantic entanglement with another old friend of mine, Joe) made an astonishing wad of on-the-side extra coin peddling “free range” eggs to one of the local yuppie-puppie grocery stores. Al and Lisa live way out in the boonies near Concord, on a big farm passed down to him by his grandmother through his mom, both long deceased. Once, when I was up at their place on one of my regular visits, Al walked me out to the “free range” chicken coop to help him collect those upscale eggs.

Al explained the whole “free range egg” dodge to me on the trudge out there from the century-plus-old farmhouse, and it struck me as just funny as all get-out. See, the coop was the familiar wood-and-wire structure roomy enough to comfortably house about ten-fifteen yardbirds and keep them safe from snakes, coons, foxes, and such-like critters, the distinction which made it “free range” being that this one had wheels. There was a beat-down circular track along which, every other day, either Al or Lisa had to roll the ramshackle rig a minimum of three (3) feet so as to maintain its “free range” status. Once in a while they’d let the chickens out to peck, cluck, and scratch around in the tall grass and dirt for an hour or so, after which brief spell of liberation they’d all be bunged back into the hen-itentiary again.

All in all, the whole setup was about as “free range” as every other garden-variety, stationary henhouse any country boy has seen a blue million of—ie, NOT. As with practically every other goobermint-mandated system, “free range eggs” is nothing but a pure-dee grift, designed from jump for one purpose and one purpose only: to fleece the sucker hordes out of as much of their hard-earned as can be managed without donning a bandanna and sticking a hog-leg Colt in their faces outright

Now that you know the score, feel perfectly free to amble right on past your grocery store’s “free range” and/or “organic” section wearing a knowing smile and head directly for the more reasonably priced but every bit as nutritious and/or healthy aisle with a clear conscience. Let the smarmy yuppie urbanites and/or hippie-dippie doofi waste their gelt on fraudulence and PC hype.

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Sympathy for the devil

Gee, wonder why his grandson turned out to be the oxygen-thieving little predator he was. Why, one might almost conclude that Grampa’s attitude might have been the REAL problem whence the whole mishegas derived.

Still Baffling: AR-15 Provides Homeowners with Unfair Advantage Over Intruders?
Sometimes in researching stories to share with TTAG’s audience you come across an old one that still makes you shake your head. Sometimes you come across an old one that makes you shake your head so much you just have to share it. After all these years, what this grandfather says, in spite of his obvious grief, is still a head scratcher. So here’s the story:

Years ago, Massad Ayoob once told me, “In a fight for your life, if it’s a fair fight, your tactics suck.” Like many of us, I’ve heard (and used) that same expression countless times. However, a grandfather in Oklahoma apparently thought it should be a fair fight between home invaders like his grandson and innocent homeowners.

Leroy Schumacher told media outlets that the homeowner’s use of an AR-15 gave him an “unfair advantage” against the gaggle of armed thugs who broke into his home. In the end, three of the thugs assumed room temperature.

Don’t you love it when the family members of violent criminals speak out to the media, trying to paint their misguided scholar kin as the true victims.

Grandpa Schumacher brought a big shovel to continue diggin’.

“What these three boys did was stupid,” said Leroy Schumacher.

Schumacher agrees his grandson and his friends made a bad decision, but not one worthy of deadly consequences.

“They knew they could be punished for it but they did not deserve to die,” said Schumacher.

Schumacher says his grandson didn’t have a chance. The 17-year old, he says, never got into trouble.

“Brass knuckles against an AR-15, come on, who was afraid for their life,” Schumacher told the station at the time.

Don’t give a shit, Gramps. Your worthless spawn, happily for all of his future intended victims, has now assumed room temperature, so who was or was not “afraid for their life” is no longer relevant. “Unfair”? Cry me a river, asswipe; your precious “good boy” is dead purely because he made the fatal mistake of breaking into the wrong house, no other reason. If you can’t do the time, then don’t do the crime, as the old saying goes. May he, his hapless partners, and especially you, burn in Hell for a thousand years—a lengthy stretch which should afford the whole sorry lot of you ample time to figure it out for yourselves.

Bottom line, the stupid wannabe-thug brought brass knuckles to a gunfight. The most satisfying part of this story would have to be its decidedly happy ending (bold mine):

Authorities didn’t agree with Schumacher’s sentiments, however, and Zach Peters was not charged with any crimes because police say he acted in self-defense. Schumacher was not convinced that the shooting was justified, though, and reiterated his belief that the consequences didn’t fit the crime. “There’s got to be a limit to that law, I mean he shot all three of them — there was no need for that,” he said.

No, he should’ve probably just shot one of them and hoped the others ran off instead of taking charging at him and using his own gun to kill him. You can’t make this stuff up!

To think those three teens apparently committed that violent home invasion under the leadership of their criminal mastermind friend Elizabeth Rodriguez, who eventually pled guilty to reduced charges and was sentenced to 45 years for each of her criminal partners killed. All three sentences were to be servied concurrently. As for her associates Jacob Redfearn, Jake Woodruff and Max Cook, they will for eternity pay the price for a very stupid decision that they learned too late has very real, long-term consequences. While this incident took place in 2017, it’s a lesson that is still valid today.

You don’t go in a person’s home unless invited. It’s as simple as that.

Annnnd BINGO! ‘Nuff said.

Grandpa’s grief is of course understandable. Which only makes it all the more crucial that the arrant horseshit said grief has led him to espouse be quashed immediately and vehemently, lest such destructive “thinking” gain a toehold via misplaced sympathy and metastasize throughout society entire, to all our great detriment. Decent folks tolerate nonsense like this at their own dire peril. Denounce it or die, sayeth I.

Final positive aspect? Just this: Grampa’s inept thug of a grandson and his criminal ex-confreres will never break into someone else’s house with intent to victimize a homeowner guilty only of minding his own business again, guar-on-TEED. Curmudgeon nonpareil HL Mencken, a/k/a the Sage of Baltimore, expressed the core principle thusly: “Hanging one scoundrel, it appears, does not deter the next. Well, what of it? The first one is at least disposed of.” A-fuggin’ MEN, podnah.

Off-topic update! Speaking of happy endings, MarsEdit 5.3 is still choogling merrily away, to my tremendous relief. YAAAAY!

ON-topic update! Via Lakeside Joe: Another lesson learned too late, another goblin DRT.

Florida Man Shoots at Two Migrants in Alleged Home Invasion, One Died
A Florida homeowner shot at two migrants who allegedly broke into his home Thursday night. One of the migrants, a Mexican national, died from multiple gunshot wounds.

Manatee County Sheriff Rick Wells told reporters his deputies responded to a call about a shooting connected to an alleged home invasion burglary. The homeowner said his home surveillance camera alerted him to the two masked men who were about to break into his home, Fox 13 reported.

“He [the homeowner] knew something bad was about to happen, and he didn’t stall. He grabbed his firearm, told his wife to get into a safe spot,” the sheriff said. “This is the state of Florida. If you want to break into someone’s home, you should expect to be shot.”

The homeowner reportedly told his wife to find a safe place in the house as he grabbed his firearm to defend his home and family. Florida is a Castle Doctrine state that allows a homeowner to use deadly force to defend himself or others.

Bold mine again, and utterly delightful.

The Great State Of Florida and a handful of other localities notwithstanding, it shows how very far shitlibs have dragged the Overton window towards Leftist tyranny, that the once nearly universal assumption that defending the sanctity of one’s home and the safety of one’s family using deadly force was reasonable and appropriate—in fact, was every self-respecting Man of the House’s solemn duty—should now be questionable, even outrageous, for a great many so-called “Americans.”

Time was, getting shot and/or killed was held to be an occupational hazard for housebreakers, thieves, and other such vermin, far from being unheard of; even said vermin realized that the longer he plied his nefarious trade, his odds of being shot would rise from “Highly Likely” all the way up to “Dead Certain.” The idea that a law-abiding citizen would someday be arrested, tried, and incarcerated for the “crime” of ventilating a marauding armed robber or robbers would have drawn gales of scornful laughter from all and sundry in those days—preposterous, absurd, manifestly Unpossible© here in the Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave!

Today, alas, this upending of the very concept of Law And Order itself is taken as read, a given. Even amongst 2A absolutists, the too-real prospect of imprisonment, persecution, and personal ruin based on the most threadbare pretext—when The Enemy bothers to justify Himself at all, mind—is now accepted as the stuff of everyday life in Amerika v2.0. Again with the Eternal Truth: no matter how much you hate Them, you don’t hate Them enough.

All in all, the newly-controversial God-given right to effectively defend one’s home, loved ones, belongings, and bodily self is yet another Founding principle which has been flung down and danced upon by the Leftist wrecking crew. Having grown up in a very different America than the one I see all around me in my dotage—its exact opposite, in fact; the Disney-reboot version of it, written, produced, and directed by Bearded Spock—I can only wonder how the hell it ever came to this. We’ve come a long way, baby—every step of it in precisely the wrong direction.

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The amazing, miraculous, vanishing taxpayer megabux

Moar lies from Chuckles Schroomer.


“Show more” workaround.

The federal government has very few resources left for helping small businesses, farmers, people rebuilding their homes, communities fixing their main streets and repairing their highways.

This is a problem for states across the country, whether they be represented by Democrats or Republicans.

The only fix is congressional action.

Democrats are working across the aisle to reach an agreement that will help cities, towns, and rural areas rebuild.

*cough cough* BULLSHIT. *cough cough*


Ain’t no squaring that circle, I’m afraid. I wish there was.

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The House of Grift

If you build it, they will scum.

Lame-duck pardon, broken promise: Biden leaves a legacy of corruption
The most shocking aspect of President Biden pardoning his own son, Hunter, may be that it was not in the least shocking, given the history of the Biden family. This abuse of the pardon power was widely anticipated even by his allies as the president repeatedly denied that he would ever do such a thing as he ran for reelection. Indeed, it may be the single most premeditated unethical act in political history.

That would be the Biden CRIME Family to you, pal. Onwards.

Roughly two years ago, I wrote about how Biden might suddenly withdraw from the presidential race in 2024 and pardon his son as a lame-duck president. “The pardon-and-apology approach might appeal to Biden not only as an effort to convert vice into virtue but to justify his withdrawal from the election as a selfless act,” I wrote.

I further noted: “Everyone in Washington would win — except, of course, the public: The Bidens would keep alleged millions in influence-peddling profits; Hunter would not even have to pay his full taxes; members of Congress and the media could avoid taking responsibility for burying the reports of corruption.”

I wrote about the pardon option repeatedly because none of Hunter’s bizarre (and ultimately unsuccessful) criminal defenses made sense unless he felt confident that his father would pardon him in the end. Hunter’s taunting Congress with open contempt of a subpoena and his ridiculous defenses in court were not the actions of someone who feared consequences from these investigations. They were the actions of someone with a back-pocket pardon.

The eventual pardon restored what was a sweetheart deal reached with Special Counsel David Weiss that would have given Hunter immunity to the immediate charges and any unnamed criminal charges. It collapsed in court when Judge Maryellen Noreika expressed shock at such a deal and asked the prosecutor if he had ever seen such a deal offered to any other defendant. He admitted that he had not.

Now, President Biden has recreated an even more sweeping immunity grant through his own powers by pardoning his son not only for the crimes of which he was convicted, but of any crimes committed between Jan. 1, 2014 to Dec. 1, 2024.

Think on that. It would cover anything from perjury to murder.

For many in the media who helped bury this scandal and showed no interest in pursuing the influence-peddling operation of the Biden family, the pardon was met with uncomfortable shrugs. It is a measure of what you can call “Biden ethics.” In the curious world of Joe Biden, a lie that no one believes is treated the same as the truth.

It is likely to work. There may be little interest in pursuing this corruption scandal with so much to get done in the new administration. However, it is not the absolute “get-out-of-jail-free” card that President Biden would like.

Sure it is. What the hell will ever be done about it, you think? By you, by me, by Congress, by the Vichy GOPe, by Trump, by anybody at all? Much as I’d love to see it come back to bite him in the ass, I cannot for the life of me detect the mechanism by which such a desirable denouement might actually come to pass.

Here’s how it’s all gonna go down:

  • Biden leaves office, shuffling and stumbling out to the Beast for his final seventy-car-motorcade speed-run to Andrews AFB, whence he will be flown to one (1) of his several palatial mansions
  • He keeps all the millions he conned not just this country but the entire planet out of
  • He goes right on lying and creating alternate realities for himself and his sleazy, greasy retinue to dwell in for the rest of his/their days

Yes, it’s 37 different flavors of ugly for sure, but you can take it to the bank nonetheless.

Griftin’ Jaux Bribem wrapped the rest of his criminal associates (what the rest of us call “family members,” not that those words mean to them anything like what we understand them to mean) in a suit of armor which renders them utterly impervious to prosecution or sanction of any kind, for any crime, forever and ever amen.

Undismayed by the cold, cruel facts underpinning this farcical shitshow, Turley finishes up with a flourish:

Short of such continued investigation, the Bidens will have achieved something that would have made John Gotti blush. They were able to pull in millions of alleged influence-peddling proceeds. Hunter was showered with gifts and benefits, from a diamond to a luxury sports car. Various Biden family members reportedly received money from the operation. President Biden was himself accused of knowledge and possible benefits from the influence peddling. He will also be protected by this official act.

This is why I once wrote that the Bidens are the GOATs of influence peddling. While influence peddling is the most common form of corruption in Washington, this city has never seen the likes of the Bidens. The only thing greater than their appetite was their sheer audacity. 

In this statement on the pardon before fleeing the jurisdiction for a foreign trip, President Biden notably stated that “in trying to break Hunter, they’ve tried to break me.” Indeed, this corruption scandal is as much about the president as it is about his son. And, as the president previously declared, “No one f—- with a Biden.”

Look for many more pardons to be puked forth by this contemptible wretch in the days ahead—of his “brother” and longtime co-conspirator James, probably of the execrable “Dr” Jill so as to shield her against any future repercussions from her illicit usurpation of Presidential powers as Jaux lapsed deeper and deeper into senile incapacitation, and who even knows who the hell else. Finally, in the last hours of his last day as ***”pResident,”*** he’ll grant a blanket pardon to himself—regardless of how legally murky that last cocking of the snook might be for honest people.

“Honest people”? It is to laugh, albeit ruefully. If there’s any single thing we all ought to have known about the Bidens eons ago, it’s that the words “honest” and “Biden” go together about like oil and water do. They’re as incongruous, contradictory, and disruptive as a turd in the punchbowl; a window-rattling, paint-peeling fart at a family dinner table; a wild, boisterous fuck during church services; a live tarantula dangling from the Christmas tree. As with lacquer and enamel, the words just don’t mix; never have, never will, never CAN. Anyone knuckleheaded enough to attempt such self-evident damfoolery will only beclown himself in the effort.

As somebody once said of some other fella: DE L’AUDACE, ENCORE DE L’AUDACE, ET TOUJOURS DE L’AUDACE! It’s a creed that has served the abominable Faux Jaux Biden and his rancid brood of hatchlings, rumpswabs, and partners in crime extremely well, painful though it is to have to admit it. The mediocrity to end all mediocrities, Pedo Peter will die in his soft, comfy bed with a broad grin on his face, comforted by the thought that he won in the end.

Because, y’know, he did.

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Hey, let’s you and him fight!

Dump NATO NOW, please.

Military Chairman of NATO Admiral Rob Bauer: Preemptive Attack on Russia Should Be Considered
NATO Military Committee Chairman Admiral Rob Bauer from The Netherlands discussed the need for preemptive strikes on Russia in the event of armed conflict.

Joe Biden and NATO are hoping for all-out war with Russia, the world’s second largest nuclear power, before President Trump enters office in January.

Tucker Carlson calls these recent developments the most evil thing he has seen in his lifetime.

Dutch empty suit talks real tough for a guy who has no military to speak of backing up his fiery bluster, however powerful his beggar-nation might have been 400 years or so ago. Well, no military aside from OURS, that is.

Trump drew a shitstorm of outraged puffing and blowing from desk-chair warriors around the globe when he mentioned bringing the US role of propping up the rest of NATO to a past-due close early in his first term, but I thought then and think now that he couldn’t have been righter. NATO’s charter mission was rendered null and void the day the Soviet Union collapsed, and I’ve seen precious little to change my mind since then.

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FINALLY!

Me, I’m just happy to see a couple of these miserable-ass twits make good on their constant hysterical, teary-eyed threats to leave the country at long, long last.


Good riddance, don’t let the door hit ya where the good Lord split etc. Or, in the immortal words of the great Powers Booth…

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Rolling abortion

The late, unlamented Supervee.

The little engine that couldn’t: A short saga of the Super Vee
When it comes to motorcycles, I like the odd ducks.

I prefer ducks that are actually capable of moving under their own power, but maybe that’s just me.

I’m no match, though, for Paul and Joel at American Cycle Fabrication. You might remember Paul as the man who had those $35 Harleys we wrote about. Recently, I meandered by to see what the boys were up to and what curiosities I could turn up. I walked in the door, and sitting on a bench was the mother lode: a Super Vee.

Nothing gets me going like an abstruse piece of motorcycle equipment, so when I saw this engine parked there, I started pushing people and parts out of my way so I could snap a few photos. You see, I’ve heard of Super Vees, but I’d never actually seen one live and in color. The particular one I saw was a third-generation, the final design ever offered for sale — and the rarest. Approximately 45 were ever sold.

Now as a rowdy, uncut stripling, I read all the biker rags religiously: Iron Horse, my all-time fave under David Snow (CAUTION: Fakeberg link) and my dear departed friend Chris Pfouts; Outlaw Biker, for whom I would later toil thanklessly; American Iron, for whom my tight Pittsburgh brother Mike Seate ditto; Easyriders, the granpappy of ‘em all, and entirely righteous back before it began to suck dead donkey dicks (in its glory days, ER once ran a pic of the illustrious Traci Lords [link is related, just scroll down] on the cover, under the preposterous nom de slut “Suzy Softail,” IIRC); Biker Lifestyle, an also-ran publication about which there really ain’t a whole lot to say other than they always seemed to run more titty-pics than any of the aforementioned rags; last and probably least, Steve Iorio’s Supercycle, which eventually became little more than a vehicle for pimping Iorio’s useless PoS Supervee doorstops.

A pic of the monstrosity in its natural habitat: to wit, propped up on a workbench surrounded by the tools with which the poor schlub who got suckered into buying it would attempt to ascertain why the &^%@#%)*!!! it wouldn’t run.

The rest of the sordid story.

So what is a Super Vee?
In 1983, Harley was not selling whole engines to custom bike builders. Steve Iorio, who owned an outfit called Nostalgia Cycle, wasn’t really digging that situation, so the Super Vee concept was born. The idea was to create an engine using cheap, easily available small-block Chevy parts, that could power a Harley-Davidson motorcycle. By 1985, the engines were released for sale. Iorio was so bold as to suggest that he was going to unseat Harley and put them out of business. He felt Harley was putting the screws to the workin’ joe, and the Super Vee was the common man’s way to fight back: Engine parts could be had reliably and very affordably from any GM dealership or aftermarket auto parts house.

Articles published in Supercycle Magazine as early as 1983 helped get the project off the ground. The engine, though primitive, got rave reviews. Nostalgia Cycle even had a phone number customers could call and hear a Super Vee running! Heady stuff for the 1980s. Nostalgia put together a video (which is pretty funny) extolling the virtues of the new mill. Take a peek. (Bonus points for the first reader to count how many times the narrator says “American.”)

Everything seemed hunky dory, but there were a few problems. First, did you notice in that video that you never hear the engine settle into an idle? That seems a bit strange, right? Secondly, Supercycle was published by the same guy who owned Nostalgia Cycle, Steve Iorio. Steve had dabbled quite a bit in the motorcycle industry. Those initials may be familiar to some — he used to produce springers under the company name SIE, and hung out with Dick Allen, a motorcycle legend in his own right.

Ol’ Steve also went by a few aliases, including “Steve Nelson.” In fact, you can read a lovely article the Los Angeles Times wrote about him — using his fake name! The biggest, most glaring problem with Iorio was his character. The biggest, most glaring problem about the Super Vee was its near-universal reputation of being a complete piece of shit.

For those of you who have never purchased a crate engine, let me fill you in on how the process works. You buy the engine, and sometimes you have to install an ignition and a carb. That’s about it. Install it, and hit the starter button.

The Super Vee was different. It did not run well, if at all. Mating Harley-esque cases to a General Motors rotating assembly presented problems. Critical engine parts didn’t always receive enough oil, yet most Super Vees puked plenty outside the engine. In many cases, engines required some disassembly and some additional machining. Many of the engines required an overhaul simply because of awful quality control during manufacture.

The gruesome saga of Iorio’s exorbitantly overpriced bastard-baby carries on from there; it’s a truly gripping read for any dyed in the wool gearhead-type weirdo, past or present. Won’t do much to bolster one’s naive, childlike faith in the fundamental decency of humanity, I’m afraid. But hey, dem’s da breaks, laddie-buck.

Update! Another aspect of the Iorio melodrama I thought might be worth a mention: I also spent a fair few simoleons on Nostalgia Cycle parts for my trusty old Shovelhead FLH over the decade or so I owned and rode her, mostly at swap meets and such-like dens of iniquity.

I quickly learned that those Nostalgia Cycle (universally reviled amongst my fellow CLT-area scooter trash as “Nostalgia Psycho”) geegaws and gimcracks were without exception El Cheapo crap: flimsy, soft-rubber handlebar bushings; bolt-ons which couldn’t be bolted on thanks to mis-aligned mounting holes; “stainless steel” engine hardware dress-up kits that were neither stainless nor steel; points that didn’t fire, plugs that didn’t spark, filters that didn’t filter, external oil hard-lines without any holes drilled in ‘em; “high flow” oil pumps with no pump gear, etc. etc.

The chrome on all those fancy-shmancy covers—battery, nose cone, breather, primary, drive chain, coil, &c—would begin to blister, flake, and/or peel within no more than two (2) days of the first time it got wet. I was never much of a chrome-cover guy myself—I was more inclined to remove all that shit, box it up, and store it in the remotest corner of the garage. I vastly preferred the lean, mean, bare-knuckle brawler look, as exemplified by my stripped-nekkid, hellaciously fast, screamin’ demon 06 Sporty:

Custom Hot Rod Flatz paint in Desert Sand (hand-sprayed at the shop by Goose, hand-striped and -lettered by the legendary Eddie Brown, Fender motor-mount bottle opener by yrs truly); wrapped header-pipes; no front or rear belt cover; not a single extraneous piece of chrome anywhere that wasn’t factory-installed—what can I say? Except that I surely do miss that sweet, nasty little bitch.

Anyways. Every last bit of Nostalgia Psycho’s teetotal junk, mind, was made from pure Chineseum© in an era when such foreign-parts profanations were strictly verboten—taboo to any self-respecting Milwaukee Iron aficionado, for which unthinking sacrilege the Harley Gods would surely smite down the blasphemer with a quickness. Suffice it to say, after getting bitten like that a cpl-three times, my days of throwing money down the Nostalgia sewer drain were O-V-E-R over.

Updated update! Awright, awright, awright, quitcher crying, ya sissy-Marys; more righteous photos of my beautiful, decidedly non-shiny Sporty below the fold. Although I’ve described her verbally/textually here before, I don’t believe I ever did post any pics, for whatever bizarre reason.

Continue reading “Rolling abortion”

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Freak has Teh SADZ©

Presented without comment, as none is needed.


Hijinks in liberated Churmany

Down Under blogosphere phenom David Thompson is another from the John Wilder school of bloggery: a gifted writer with plenty of worthwhile things to say and excellent points to make who is damned near impossible to excerpt effectively without doing real violence to the post it came from. Theirs is a long-form style which is densely packed, taut as a snare-drum head, with a punch like a George Foreman haymaker. As Salieri said of Mozart in Amadeus, omit a single note and the entire work would be diminished; omit a single measure and the entire structure must fall. So if you find it puzzling that I don’t excerpt Thompson very often, well, now you understand.

After all, what could possibly go wrong when housing with women a mentally ill man who likes to hold knives to women’s throats before stealing their footwear, and hoarding said footwear for sexual purposes? A man who delights in stalking women, assaulting them, and waving his tallywhacker at mothers with their young daughters.

A man who is referred to in the German media, somewhat surreally, as a woman, a she-person, despite being identified via the very male genetic material left at the scenes of his crimes.

Oh, and should you be concerned about the whereabouts of all those stolen items, fear not:

The defendant now hoards hundreds of boots and handbags in a large number of boxes; she had even taken her treasures with her to prison, where they were stored.

Her treasures, obligingly stored.

See what I mean, gang? Both Thompson and Wilder are longtime standbys of Ye Aulde CF Blogrolle, and we’re fortunate indeed to have ‘em therein. If you aren’t reading them on the regular, you’re missing out on something mighty good.

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Thank You African American Elon Musk!

The role played by Musk in this election, starting with enforcing free speech on twitter, then endorsing Trump is HUGE.

And –

The Senate goes to the Trump led Republican party, and the house is now projected to remain in the republican hands by 1 vote.

It is a complete sweep, the greatest comeback in history. It vindicates every single person that just kept working to defeat the marxist cabal.

Congratulations to America, and thank you to President Donald Trump – they have tried to jail him, bankrupt him, and murder him – and they failed.

Fight, Fight, Fight

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COMING SOON: Open season on “liberals,” no bag limit

Wow. Just…WOW.


More from the embedded link:

A digitally altered image of Kamala Harris dressed as a McDonald’s employee has gone viral on social media, sparking debate over her recent claim that she once worked at a McDonald’s in Alameda, California. The photo, widely shared by some liberal users as supposed “proof” of Harris’s claim, is actually a modified image of a white Canadian woman who passed away from cancer in 2007. 

The original photo is of Suzanne Bernier, who passed away from cancer in 2007, according to an archived webpage about her life.

These so-called “people” seem absolutely, positively determined to make it impossible not to look forward eagerly to the day they’re finally being hunted down and shot for sport, don’t they? If they go on like this, eventually banks and truck stops will be offering a free toaster oven or fancy embroidered ball cap for every shitlib pelt brought in.

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Joke turns out not to be a joke after all

Okay, I admit I was just joking around (well, mostly) when I suggested yesterday that the CDC’s phonus balonus E Coli scare attempt was Überstadt retaliation against Mickey D’s. Looks like, despite everything, maybe I’m not quite as cynical as I really ought to be yet.

Democrats Target McDonald’s for Price Gouging After Trump Served Customers
Senate Democrats attacked McDonald’s on Tuesday for price gouging while it continues to “grow” profits and serve the needs of customers.

The letter, written by Sens. Ron Wyden (D-OR), Bob Casey (D-PA), and Elizabeth Warren (D-MA), underscores the success of former President Donald Trump’s campaign stop on Sunday when he worked a McDonald’s drive-thru window in Pennsylvania.

Images and video of the former president helping customers to McDonald’s finest foods nearly broke the internet. Many of Trump’s critics heralded the gesture as great retail politics and a stroke of political genius.

Senate Democrats, however, appeared very upset by Trump’s success.

In a letter addressed to McDonald’s Chief Executive Officer Chris Kempczinski, the senators sought information about the fast-food restaurant’s “increases in fast food prices over the last several years and seeking information regarding McDonald’s pricing decisions.”

The letter made no mention of the policies implemented by the Biden-Harris administration that fueled inflation.

No, of course not. Why would they have, frankly? That wouldn’t be “helping” anybody, y’know.

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Opposite Rule, exemplified

This. This. Right. HERE.

Your “See more…” workaround.

They put Bannon in prison. 

They put Navarro in prison. 

They are trying to bankrupt Gateway Pundit. 

They indicted the CFO of Epoch Times.

They are investigating Elon Musk. 

They are trying to put Donald Trump in prison. 

They are trying to disbar Jeff Clark.

They disbarred John Eastman and debanked him. 

They arrested the doctor who blew the whistle that a Texas hospital was illegally performing gender reassignment surgeries on minors. 

They indicted and disbarred Rudy Giuliani. 

They spied on Catholic Churches. 

They put concerned parents who went to school board meetings on the FBI watchlists. 

They imprisoned 1500 protestors, most first time nonviolent offenders. 

But Donald Trump is going to weaponize the government to go after his enemies?

Kinda says it all, don’t it? As codified in Mike’s Iron Law #462, actually.

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CF Glossary

ProPol: Professional Politician

Vichy GOPe: Putative "Republicans" who talk a great game but never can seem to find a hill they consider worth dying on; Quislings, Petains, Benedicts, backstabbers, fake phony frauds

Fake Phony Fraud(s), S'faccim: two excellent descriptors coined by the late great WABC host Bob Grant which are interchangeable, both meaning as they do pretty much the same thing

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