GIVE TIL IT HURTS!

Disappointment

I dunno, man, it’s always great to see a passel of Lefty screechweasels getting the snot pounded out of ‘em, but I was expecting we’d at least see some teeth, hair, and blood left on that icy sidewalk, if not bone fragments, eyeballs, ears, and/or severed limbs. Do better next time, fellas.


Butt-ugly Leftybitch can’t stand the heat, needs to get the hell out of the kitchen

Welcome to the jungle, twatwaffle.

Zohran Mamdani’s woke, privileged tenant advocate Cea Weaver breaks down crying when asked about hypocritical gentrification comments
Mayor Zohran Mamdani’s newly instated radical-left tenant advocate, Cea Weaver, broke down Wednesday as she dodged questions from reporters about her gentrification hypocrisy.

The 37-year-old, who has faced backlash for blasting homeownership as a “weapon of white supremacy” in the past, teared up when she emerged briefly from her apartment building in Crown Heights, Brooklyn, at about 9 a.m.

Weaver, who was tapped by Mamdani to be his new director of the city Office to Protect Tenants, quickly ran back inside after she was asked about the $1.6 million home her mother owns in Nashville, Tennessee.

I read someplace that not only did this big-talking gutless wonder break down crying upon being asked the first pointed question she’d ever faced in her entire life, she also ran screaming down the street before regaining control of herself and sneaking back into her own crib.

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Yet she persists

Directly, hilariously related to tonight’s Eyrie topic, your feel-good video of the week month year century.


Almost perfect, except ol’ Two-Ton Tallulah there seems to have survived her foolhardy brush with the Law, regrettably. Better luck next time, officers.

Update! A cpl good un’s via the Ace Place.



Do your worst, bitches. Since it appears you may have forgotten already, I’d like to remind you again of who it is that has all the guns in this badly-broken nation.


Send in the clowns

Don’t bother, they’re here.

New York magazine writer stumps Zohran Mamdani, top aides with ‘cost of living’ question
A magazine reporter stumped Mayor-elect Zohran Mamdani and his closest advisers with a question about lowering the cost of living in the Big Apple.

Mamdani and his crew didn’t have an answer when a New York Magazine writer asked for a comparable city as the democratic socialist waxed poetic about his lofty “principle” of bringing down the cost of living in the five boroughs.

“I asked him and some of his advisers if there were cities that had pulled this off that New York could emulate, places that had managed to meaningfully lower the cost of living. None sprang to mind,” the article stated.

“Talk to policy experts, and they find the prospect laughable; the only cities where this has happened are ones where the quality of life dropped so dramatically that no one wanted to live there anymore.”

Point being…? What with the recent mass exodus of the last pitiful handful of sensible, intelligent souls from the ruins, NYC is already sprinting just as hard and fast as it can for the very bottom of that particular fly-blown dungheap. And with commie nitwit Zsa Zsa “A job? ME?!?” Mammyjammy at the wheel, you gotta like their chances. Taking the checkered flag in this particular race is nothing to get excited about, certainly. Even so, purblind City dwellers had better make the most of it and enjoy the Booby Prize while they can—this will be the last victory New Yorkers will have for a long, long time. Après MammyJammy, le déluge.

Clearly, the above-mentioned New Yorker hack didn’t get the memo: you never, but NEVER, ask a Socialist a question about economic policy. They know about as much on that subject as famous retard Tampon Timmeh! Walz does about string theory, therefore are sure to make a dog’s breakfast of the whole enterprise.

Sorry to be the bearer of bad tidings, gang, but after all the years, all the tears, and all the predictions of imminent doom which turned out to be a trifle premature, New York is truly over and done with. You only get so many spins of the cylinder before a loaded chamber comes up, so many goes at taunting the tiger before the tiger chews you to pieces and spits you out. About three weeks worth of MammyJammy (mis)rule ought to put the final nail in NYC’s coffin. Resilient as the City has proven itself to be time and again, selecting as Mayor a dull-witted, silver-spoonfed Muzzrat Richie Rich who has never worked a day in his useless life is a self-inflicted wound from which Noo Yawk Fuckin’ City will not recover.

Trump must continue to hammer the point home like a broken record: there will be NO bailout, NO federal relief programs, NO FederalGovCo knight in shining armor riding up on his snow-white charger to pull NYC’s chestnuts out of the fire in the very nick of time. New Yorkers, having voted for the assclown MammyJammy overwhelmingly—a landslide romp which, in effect, bestows one of the strongest mandates ever on an egomaniacal muttonhead who is singularly illl-equipped to wield it judiciously—now have no one but themselves to blame for what they’ll soon be getting. Let them get it then, Mencken-style (ie, good and hard), until they’re so completely downcast that the humiliation of this latest and greatest folly in a long and distinguished line of foolish, impenitent acts of municipal auto-annihilation shall be seared into their collective memory forever.

May New Yorkers rue the day they made such an suicidally-unwise choice. May the impending catastrophe scar them so indelibly they will be driven to reconsider…well, damned near everythiing, actually. May the enduring pain of this experience burn away, like a chill morning fog, their abiding arrogance; their deep-seated superiority complex; their ahistorical ignorance; and their counterfactual assumptions. May the sight of their once-majestic City burning all around them—collapsing into violence, lawlessness, and anarchy thanks to their own infantile prejudices and delusions—inspire them at long last to embrace humility, contrition, and thoughtfulness.

And if that doesn’t work out, just build a 40-foot high, razor-wire-topped, concrete wall around Manhattan, post armed guards along the perimeter, shut off the electricity, rename it Manhattan Island Federal Penitentiary. Then, should PoTUS’s chopper go down inside the Wall, send Snake Plissken in to bring the blaggard back out again.

Righteous rip

Is there anything in all the world as clever, creative, and devilishly ingenious as an old-school biker? I think NOT!

Heh. Saw something along similar lines years ago at the Myrtle Beach Spring R&ally, on a Big Twin parked up in a metered space across the street from the Pavilion. Difference being, on this one the trailer-hitch ball was mounted atop the back fender of a gorgeous Panhead bobjob, right behind the solo seat where the bitch-pad would usually be. Around the hitch-ball, in traditional tattoo-script lettering, were the words, “Ride THIS, bitch!” Too, too funny, I thought.

Brings to mind the time some drunk hooer followed me out to the bar parkig lot hoping to cadge a ride with me on my bare-knuckle 71 FLH. After a lot of the usual sniveling horseshit, the bint wanted to know where the sissy-bar was, as if I’d somehow contrivde to hide the stupid thing. Now, I‘d never had a fucking sissy-bar on my old Shovel and never would if I had anything to say about it. I always built my bikes to be lean, clean, mean, and fast. No frills, no flash, no BS.

And no passenger seat or sissy-bar, neither. You wanna ride bitch behind me, babe, then go snag a cpl-three hand towels from the bartender, fold em up nice and tight, and tuck ‘em under your ass for a cushion. Alternatively, you could just ride the damn fender, latch onto something solid and secure, and hang on for dear life. Either way works for me, I already KNOW where I’ll be sitting.

So naturally, I turned to face the woozy, boozy broad and rasped, “Sorry, this bike ain’t for sissies.”

As the T-shirts used to have it: chrome don’t get ya home, loud pipes save lives, there’s no replacement for cubic-inch displacement, and horsepower is its own reward. Twist on the loud handle until that ornery old Milwaukee Mule cackles like a fat bitch, in Goose’s unforgettable words. Another thing he used to say after a bunch of us had been out TT (Tavern-to-Tavern, that is) racing and were ready to head on back to the shop: “These other mopes think they ride hard, but when me and you put a bike back in the barn after a good putt she’s breathing heavy,  drenched with sweat., and her tongue is hanging out two or three feet.” Coming from Goose, I knew that was praise indeed.

Sarah Hucklebee Sanders to anti-Christian dickweeds: GET BENT

The TRUE meaning of Christmas is telling officious, whiny shitlibs to crawl up an armadillo’s ass and die.

Arkansas Governor Sarah Huckabee Sanders was feeling the Christmas spirit this week as she gave state employees a generous gift. She announced she would be closing state offices on Friday, December 26th, extending a nice four-day weekend to the state’s employees to spend with their families and celebrate the birth of Jesus.

The birth of Jesus? She can’t say that! She’s a governor.

At least according to the Scrooges at the Freedom from Religion Foundation (FFRF), an atheist nonprofit organization that, in their words, works to keep state and church separate.

Sarah’s e-mail really got the agitated atheist’s tinsel in a twist.

The angry elves at FFRF couldn’t let this stand, and they jumped into action, pounced, if you will. They sent a letter to the Governor demanding that she rescind the statement, claiming it violated the First Amendment’s Establishment Clause. Going even further, they demanded that she no longer use her office to promote ‘Christian Mythology’ as truth.

Next, this happened.


Y’know, her dad would’ve benefited tremendously from a lot more of his daughter’s backbone and feistiness back when he was in politics.

“Please know that I will do no such thing.” Epic! Also, LEGEND! I think I maybe came in my pants a little just now.

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Fun with Bathhouse Barry ‘n’ Big Mike

No, not THAT kind of fun.


True, dat. Annnnd MOAR fun.


True also. Guess we all ought to stop laughing and cut poor ol’ Barky some slack. Not that he or Mooch-Helle can even hear all that gunfire from inside the walls of their Martha’s Vineyard or Georgetown compounds, mind.

Trump nails it…AGAIN

The Truth-Teller-In-Chief.

President Trump on Sunday said he meant every word of his Thanksgiving attack on Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz, telling reporters aboard Air Force One that he stands by calling the Democrat “retarded” and adding, “Yeah, I think there’s something wrong with him,” when asked whether he wanted to revise the remark. Trump pointed directly to Walz’s record as the reason for his choice of words, arguing that no responsible governor would preside over the kind of refugee policies that have transformed Minnesota in the way he described. “Anybody that would allow those people into a state and pay billions of dollars out to Somalia,” Trump said, before launching into a broader criticism of Somalia itself. He told reporters the country “has a name, but it doesn’t function like a country,” and said Walz’s approach to migration shows “there’s something wrong” with his leadership, not Trump’s assessment of it.

The controversy stemmed from Trump’s Thanksgiving post on Truth Social, where he warned that America’s “refugee burden” has become a driving force behind what he called growing dysfunction in communities across the country. Minnesota, he argued, is the clearest example. In that message, Trump accused Walz of letting “hundreds of thousands of refugees from Somalia” take hold of the state, writing that organized gangs are “roving the streets looking for ‘prey’ as our wonderful people stay locked in their apartments and houses hoping against hope that they will be left alone.” He then blasted both Walz and Rep. Ilhan Omar, calling Walz “seriously retarded” for doing “nothing, either through fear, incompetence, or both,” and accusing Omar of entering the country under a fraudulent family arrangement — a long-running allegation she insists is false but has never fully put to rest. Trump described her as someone who “complains about our country” while coming from what he called a “decadent, backward, and crime-ridden” place that “is essentially not even a country.”

Yeeee-OWTCH! Poor Tampon Timmeh, the Minnesota Doughboy™, had to have felt that stinging bitch-slap from halfway across the damn country.

How it is fucking DONE

Looks as if there might possibly be a little life left in the old town yet.

NYC serial spitter bloodied in street-style justice during epic beatdown: ‘Worse than jail’
Anthony Caines — the sicko busted by the NYPD for allegedly spitting in the faces of white women who passed him in Williamsburg — has apparently been on the receiving end of some street-style justice.

Video footage shared on social media showed two men beating and kicking a man who appeared to be accused spitter Caines, 45, outside of a hair salon on Sixth Street.

It was unclear when the footage was shot.

Caines, curled up on the sidewalk in a defensive fetal position, is dealt multiple blows by the two attackers, whose faces are never shown.

The two men laugh to themselves as they kick Caines and stomp on his legs.

Caines is heard wailing in pain during the beatdown.

The clip quickly cuts to an image of Caines with a large gash on his forehead, above his left eye. Blood streams down his face as the men issue a final warning.

Yes, the Post report includes a capture from that part of the clip, and it is GLORIOUS.

“Stop violating these females out here, you heard?” the man filming the footage tells him.

“We’re tired of that s–t,” the man explains. “You’re making us look bad.”

Caines appeared to confirm he understood, before saying, “I went to jail, didn’t I?”

“F–k jail — we’re worse than jail,” the man yells before delivering one last punch to his head.

You tell ‘im, boys. Yawp all you like about “vigilante justice,” but it’s a dead cert that Hell will freeze over before Mr Psycho-Spook hocks another loogie in that locality again. In fact, uness he lives there himself, I very much doubt he’ll ever so much as show his face in Williamsburgh again.

Dolly dishes

TMI? Or no? Inquiring minds want to know.

Dolly’s Holiday Message Amid Health Battle — and One Actor’s Sweet Story About Her
Back in September, national treasure Dolly Parton announced that she was postponing some of her upcoming shows in Las Vegas to September 2026 because she was dealing with some health challenges and had to have “a few procedures.” She wrote the following in a letter to her fans:

…While that sounded better than what many fans first believed, there are still a lot of worried people out there. Ms. Parton will be 80 in January after all. We simply don’t want to lose her. Well, she took to social media again on Thursday to let us all know she’s still hanging in there and wished us all a “Happy Thanksgiving.” How we come to the truly juicy stuff. In a manner of speaking. In the meantime, an X user told actor James Woods that she’d recently watched an interview with Dolly, during which she said that love scenes in movies always made her nervous, but that Woods was, by far, the best kisser of all the leading men she’d worked with over the years.

Dolly’s fulsome praise got a rise out of Woods:


Is there more, you ask? Why yes, there is.

I actually managed to track down that interview with Jay Leno from years ago. “You wouldn’t believe how James Woods can kiss — in fact, I tell him every time I see him, ‘You want to kiss? You want to do another…I bet he’s a great lover, too,” Dolly said with a laugh.

Dolly also mentioned Sylvester Stallone being pretty good at this particular part of his craft, but she had something else to say about Burt Reynolds. She said that when they filmed The Best Little Whorehouse In Texas, Reynolds had to dye his mustache black because it’d actually already turned gray by that point. “Every time I kissed him, I’d just have all black around my face,” she chuckled.

Okay, I don’t give a fig who you are or what your opinion of Dolly Parton might be, that’s some funny-ass shit right there.

When genius speaks

The wise harken.

AOC demands Black Friday be renamed ‘Friday of Color’
US—Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez (D-NY) was furious today after she learned that retailers and shopping outlets were still referring to the day after Thanksgiving as “Black Friday“.

She has demanded that they start referring to the make-shift holiday next year as “Friday of Color”.

The proposal, touted as a groundbreaking initiative for shopping equality, aims to rectify what AOC perceives as an oversight in the nomenclature of one of the busiest shopping days of the year.

In a press conference that unfolded like a Black Friday midnight madness sale, AOC passionately declared, “We need to recognize the diversity of our shopping experiences and move away from the exclusionary term ‘Black Friday.’ By renaming it ‘Friday of Color,’ we are embracing the vibrant spectrum of shopping desires that exist in our wonderfully diverse society.”

The demand came after President* Joe Biden said that they should let African Americans shop on days other than Black Friday.

It’s satire, folks. I think.

WRECKED ’em

What Coleman said.


PREACH it, bruh.

Off with their masks!

Forcibly, violently, and painfully, thanks to the great and powerful Wizard of Oz Musk.

Elon Musk’s zeal for truth reveals the online frauds aiming to divide us
On Friday Elon Musk, having figured out that a lot of influential X accounts weren’t what they claimed to be, activated an X feature showing where users were actually posting from — and uncovered (at least) a million lies.

Turns out a lot of users claiming to be disillusioned Trump voters, or anti-Israel Americans, are actually foreign frauds.

Like the one that posted: “Trump is Israel First. I’m done with MAGA. I hope Republicans lose.”

Americans turning on Trump over Israel?

Nope. The account was based in Turkey.

Likewise the woke-right “groyper” movement supposedly elevating white supremacist Nick Fuentes seems to be largely a foreign sham, and “Ron Smith, MAGA Hunter,” a prolific anti-Trump poster with a substantial following, turns out to be from Kenya.

Many users billing themselves as “Native American” with accounts specializing in divisive racial attacks on white people are actually foreign, and mostly from Bangladesh.

And so on, and so on.

Awful lot of jihadi weird-beards skulking behind those online guises, same-same with the ostensible Paleosimians whining about being the victims of “genocide” in Gaza from their homes in Turkey, Kenya, or Poland. Crack on Netanyahu, Israel, and (((***Dem JooJooJooJOOOOOOZ!!!***))) all you like, but don’t go acting all shocked and butthurt to learn that the people you’re associating yourself with online ain’t necessarily the people you think they are.

Kudos to Elon for yanking the rug right out from under certain unworthy, deceitful frauds, thereby prompting plenty of long-overdue attitude adjustment into the bargain. Kinda pathetic that so many of us so badly needed reminding of the most basic rule of online existence: Nothing, and I do mean NOTHING, is as it seems here. On the Innarnuts you either take absolutely everything with a YUUUGE grain of salt, or you just aint tall enough for this ride yet, kid.

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