Category: Damn that’s funny!

Everwrong

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Then turn blue and die already, you silly bint.

Greta Thunberg Threatens to Hold Her Breath Until Evil World Leaders Capitulate To Her Demands

MFNS – After the utter embarrassment of the uncovering of a recent deleted 2018 tweet predicting the world could no longer be saved in 2023, the provocative pig tailed propaganda purveyor of climate panic, far left activist Greta Thunberg, has put the world on notice that she intends to hold her breath until her climate change demands to stop using fossil fuels are met she told the press.

“I will hold my breath until you evil rat bastards capitulate to my demands. Failure to do so will result in my demise as well as mother Earth and you will burn in HELL! 

Do You Understand!!??”

For a little background:

In June of 2018, the high school dropout tweeted a quote from an article predicting, “climate change will wipe out all of humanity unless we stop using fossil fuels over the next five years.” In other words, the point of no return is 2023. In other words, nothing can be done if we do not stop using fossil fuels by 2023.

Well, if nothing can be done, that means the entire environmental movement might as well pack up and go home.

This is the 54th prediction these enviro-fascists have had to take back. 54 dire predictions about the environment, and not one of them—not one!—has come true. The environmental movement is 0-54. We should all eat bugs, give up our air conditioning, and turn to socialism due to climate change (which is a hoax) because this 0-54 group says so?? What’s more, should we take this weird, little scold who didn’t finish high school seriously? – John Nolte

Greta took no questions as she then excused herself to rush to meet her reservations for a first class, climate controlled private compartment on mass transit powered by fossil fuel produced electricity to continue the fourth year of her ‘How Dare You’ tour.

The Nolte column cited above includes, purely in the interest of fair play, this non-comprehensive list:

LIST OF DOOMSDAY PREDICTIONS CLIMATE ALARMIST GOT RIGHT

NONE.

ZIP.

ZERO.

NADA.

BLANK

DONUT HOLE

NIL.

NOTHING.

VOID.

ZILCH.

Accurate, too.

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Now SWEEPING the nation!

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The greatest television show ever created. Well, excepting Firefly, of course.


As Ace notes, “Apparently the Osundairo brothers are amusing hosts and naturals on camera.” They are indeed—quite personable, glib, and just damned funny as all hell, as the above vid amply demonstrates. Mo’ bettah:

Brothers in Jussie Smollett hoax break silence, say actor wanted to be ‘poster child for activism’
Abimbola “Bola” and Olabinjo “Ola” Osundairo speak to media for the first time in ‘Jussie Smollett: Anatomy of a Hoax,’ streaming now on Fox Nation

Early in the morning hours of a polar vortex in January 2019, FOX’s “Empire” actor Jussie Smollett claimed two White supremacist Trump supporters attacked him near his Chicago apartment in a racially-motivated hate crime that would soon incite outrage from activists and the media.

It’s the “hate crime” that dominated headlines, but facts proved none of it was true.

In December 2021, the now-40-year-old actor and singer was convicted of five felony counts of disorderly conduct. One year ago, he was sentenced in March 2022 to 150 days in county jail.

Forgive me for saying so, but ol’ Juisseh (hey, that’s the way I’ve always pronounced it, just ’cause I think it’s funnier that way, no other reason) being both black and a rump-ranger, I have a hard time picturing jail as any kind of real hardship for him. A deee-luxe vacation, a rest-cure, more like.

Yes, I know, I know, I’m a homophobic racist bigoted racist H8RRRR.

I DENOUNCE MYSELF…!!!

I DID mention the Osundairos are quite personable and funny, right? Why yes, I believe I did at that.

“You know Eddie Johnson [former Chicago Police Superintendent] said he could tell in the footage that you guys are Black, right?” an off-camera interviewer asked the brothers.

“Really?” Ola asked. “I feel like he’s just saying that… we were in character the whole time.”

“So you think you guys are believable White supremacists?” the interviewer pressed.

“One hundred percent! Look at me,” Bola laughed. Chicago Police released images of the incident shortly after it took place, but Johnson said the initially released image of two silhouettes walking shoulder-to-shoulder down the snowy Chicago street was not the best image they had at the time.

Watch the vid, read it all. Trust me, you’ll be glad you did.

Update! In comments, Aesop says: “Chapelle dealt with the whole incident better in 3½ minutes than the entire woketarded media did in 3½ months, and distilled that @$$hole’s entire career down to a single punchline.” And he’s right about that.

Many thanks for that gem of a find, Aesop.

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Jump you fuckers!

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Ladies and gents, may I present what really ought to be our new national anthem.



Against all odds, the vid does have a happy ending after all, so stay tuned for it. Via WRSA, who has also thoughtfully included a transcription of the lyrics in toto for your enjoyment and edification.

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Lobbing a doo-doo bomb at the Gooks

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Okay, this one’s just too hilarious not to put up here.

It’s True! A toilet was used as an aerial bomb during the Vietnam War

On November 4, 1965, some Vietnamese came across a very strange object that looked as if it had been dropped from the sky. Was it a bomb? Well, it had tail fins and a nose like a bomb. But it was white, and shaped like – a toilet?

It was a toilet in fact. It had been dropped by a VA-25 A-1 Skyraider on a mission to the Mekong Delta in South Vietnam. It had come from Dixie Station, an aircraft carrier base in the South China Sea. The plane’s pilot was CDR Clarence ‘Bill’ Stoddard.

As Stoddard approached his target, he began preparations for attack. He read the ordnance (list of weapons the aircraft carried) to Forward Air Control. At the end of the list, he read ‘and one codenamed Operation Sani-flush.’ What was Stoddard talking about?

The story of the toilet drop was told by Captain Clint Johnson, the pilot of another VA-25 A-1 Skyraider. The toilet was a damaged one that was going to be thrown overboard anyway. But some plane captains decided to rescue it, dress it up to look like a bomb, and drop it in commemoration of the 6 million pounds of ordnance that had been dropped by the U.S. Air Force. The Air Control team said it made a whistling sound as it came down, and that it had almost struck the plane as it came off. A film was made of the drop using a video camera mounted on the wing.

Just as the toilet was being shot off, Johnson said,’ we got a 1MC message from the bridge, “What the hell was on 572’s right wing?” There were a lot of jokes with air intelligence about germ warfare. I wish that we had saved the movie film.’

I can’t believe nobody at the storied Strike Fighter Squadron 25 (Fist of the Fleet) DID; it would speak very poorly indeed of all involved if they didn’t. But knowing Navy combat aviators as I do, and I do, I’d be willing to bet that CDR Stoddard at least might’ve glommed a copy for himself, which is probably still floating around (ahem) out there somewhere—making it the absolutely coolest family heirloom in all human history. I certainly hope that’s the case, anyway.

Before you ask, yes, there are pictures, and They. Are. Good.

DooDooBomb

Too, too perfect.

All this talk of the Able Dog and pictures and such-like practically demands a re-link of this old post, wherein you’ll find pics of one of the greatest experiences of my entire life, to wit: actually piloting one. It was arranged for me by my late, lamented cuz CPT Reggie “Regbo” Carpenter, God rest him.

See, Reg had an older friend who just happened to be the proud owner of an A1D, an Able Dog enthusiast scheduled to be flying at an annual airshow up in Hickory that Reggie had been instrumental in founding and running.

Reg didn’t tell me so beforehand, but as it turned out setting up a free-of-charge ride in a Douglas Skyraider would be just the beginning for me that fine day, the sneaky bastid. Although that would certainly have been enough and to spare, I would’ve been more than satisfied with it.

To my eternal delight, Regbo’s bud had me help out with the preflight walk-around when me, my cousin Mark, and my brother presented our giddy selves at the A1D’s assigned parking spot for our gratis check ride. I was then asked to fill out the preflight checklist form once I’d gotten myself strapped into the right seat.

Perhaps it was the pilot’s subtle way of making sure I knew at least something of what he’d soon have me doing, I dunno. If so, I wouldn’t blame him at all for his judicious exercise of caution. I was a complete stranger to this guy; whatever assurances Reg may have given him to the contrary, for all he knew, he was about to relinquish complete command and control of his cherished, expensive, and increasingly rare (3,180 built, fewer than 20 still airworthy) aircraft to a clueless noob who knew no more about flying a plane than most people do about the construction of a tokamak reactor.

Once we were wheels-up and level, he offered me the stick, whereupon I murmured a duly-stupefied “co-pilot’s airplane” through a grin so wide I nearly swallowed my own ears. After letting me ferociously toss that surprisingly-nimble pig all over the sky for a good twenty minutes or so, he pointed down to a house below (visible through the port cockpit window in one of the pics from the earlier CF post) and said, “See that house down there? That’s where my daughter and her husband live. Pilot’s airplane,” thereby assuming command of the trusty old warbird again.

From there, we racked back around to enter the landing pattern, which was crowded with a flight of three vintage Stearman biplanes in the queue ahead of us as we were coming out of the break onto final ourselves. A pic of them through the canopy:

Sflight

The pilot was having trouble spotting the Stearman flight and asked me if I had ‘em visually, which I did after a moment’s scan of the airspace ahead. I then acted as his eyes in the sky, literally, helping to walk him all the way to a gentle, trouble-free touchdown—the most deflating, depressing part of every flight, for every aviator.

Because that’s the sad, sad moment, see, when it hits you that the fun is truly over, until the next time you’re privileged to take to the air once more, and truly live again.

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Space Farce

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FederalGovCo, as is its usual wont, is putting the cart far, FAR before the horse. Hell, you could say it doesn’t even have a horse. Or a cart, for that matter.

There’s a new push to create a Space National Guard. Lawmakers say the price is right.

Lawmakers from both parties have failed — twice — to give the Space Force its own Space National Guard, which they say the new service needs in order to draw on skilled personnel, just like the Army does with the National Guard.

Now, supporters of creating the Space Guard have mounted a fresh pressure campaign with a revised pitch to win over the Biden administration and other opponents: it’s not as expensive as you think.

It’s the latest round in a cross-party turf war that pits members of Congress and National Guard leaders against fellow lawmakers and an administration wary that standing up a separate Space Guard — which would see some current members of the Air National Guard transfer over to the new service — will result in more expensive bureaucracy.

Before starting in on any fanciful speculation regarding some entirely-notional Space National Guard, whatever the price, the goobermint might first want to see about addressing its current lack of any ability to get men into space at all, perhaps. Because as things now stand, the one and only person in the US who’s actually capable of doing anything more than just talk about it is Elon Musk.

Which, to be honest, I’m perfectly okay with.

(Via Glenn)

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It is to laugh…and laugh, and laugh, and laugh

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Uganda’s president ain’t have any, thenksveddymuch.

Ugandan President Has Hilarious Response to LGBTQ Activists’ Request

In a recently posted Twitter clip of what appears to be a press conference, a woman asks, “The gay community in Uganda is requesting to have a meeting with you, would you give them an ear—“ The Ugandan president interrupts to ask, “What?” The woman switches her word, using the accurate “homosexual” instead of “gay.” Through most of its existence as a word, “gay” had nothing to do with homosexuality and is used by leftists as a positive term meant to mask the real perversion of homosexuality.

”The homosexuals in Uganda, they are requesting to have an audience with you—“ the woman then pauses because Museveni bursts out laughing. As the room joins in, even the woman starts to giggle, as if she somehow realizes for a moment too how preposterous LGBTQ ideology is. She then tries to stammer out her question as the clip ends with the president still laughing. If only other leaders around the world laughed off the truly ridiculous LGBTQ propaganda circulating! Maybe there would be fewer people claiming the pronouns “they/them,” taking kids to drag shows, putting up men in dresses as the faces of “Women’s Month,” or identifying as “cake gender.”

In a more serious vein, the Christian Ugandan president has made it clear that he sees homosexuality and LGBTQ perversions as wrong. Homosexuality can be legally punished in Uganda, and its parliament is reportedly investigating homosexuality in schools (if only the American government would conduct such an investigation). Museveni reportedly said last month that his country will not be legitimizing homosexuality and that Western nations need to stop trying to force LGBTQ ideology on Uganda.

Uganda is a majority Christian nation trying to adhere to Christian principles while under pressure from woke imperialist powers attempting to force leftist agendas on African countries regardless of what the Africans themselves want. Lawmakers in the Ugandan parliament are attempting to revive a bill against homosexuality, which India Today describes in leftist hysteria as “anti-LGBTQ.” Uganda also suffers from radical Muslim terrorism, as the Islamic State and other radicals target Uganda for violence and jihad.

With such serious threats to deal with, it’s no wonder Museveni laughed at the idea of wasting time playing political games with LGBTQ activists.

So, that whole “gay marriage” thing is pretty much a non-starter then, I’m guessing.

“A woman is not a suit you put on”

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You never go Full Woke Retard. Which is exactly what Hershey’s just did.

#TransWomenAreConMen goes viral after Hershey allows a man to take the place of a woman

Last Wednesday marked day one of Women’s History Month, an annual occasion described by the official website as a “national celebration” to commend the value and contributions of the female sex upon society. In the movement’s own words:

Since 1995, presidents have issued a series of annual proclamations designating the month of March as ‘Women’s History Month.’ These proclamations celebrate the contributions women have made to the United States and recognize the specific achievements women have made over the course of American history in a variety of fields.

\Well, welcome to a modern and Orwellian America, where a jabbering Supreme Court justice infamously couldn’t define “woman” and intact males eclipse and dominate real women in every sector, every day: competitive sports, beauty pageants, magazine covers, advertising campaigns, government posts, etc. You name it, and men in drag are there, overshadowing their female counterparts by leaps and bounds. Didn’t you ever hear that joke about when Glamour magazine bequeathed former Olympian Bruce Jenner with a “Woman of the Year” award? It went a little something like this: “Just to prove men are better at everything, it took a man to win a women’s achievement award.”

Now, Hershey is going balls (literally) to the wall, and in honor of female fortitude, the company has decided to highlight a man who goes by the name Fae Johnstone. See the clip below:


Do be sure to watch the vid; somehow, it manages to be pathetic, appalling, and funny as hell all at the same time. But wait, it gets even better still.

Now, the erasure of women and our uniqueness isn’t funny, but in a hilarious turn of events, an anti-woke company known as Jeremy’s Razors branched out into…Jeremy’s Chocolates. (You’re going to enjoy this.)

And trust me, you surely will at that.

Heh. Jeremy’s Chocolates is an offshoot of founder Jeremy Boreing’s Jeremy’s Razors, which came into being thusly:

HARRY’S AND THE DAILY WIRE HAD A DEAL.

They paid us. We advertised their razors.

But after we said that boys are boys and girls are girls, they publicly condemned our views as “inexcusable” and dropped their ads because of what they called “values misalignment.”

You’re damn right our values are misaligned. We value truth and the right to speak it.

We embrace masculinity and the courage to uphold it. And since no other razors out there did… we built our own.

Every dollar you spend here is one less dollar in the pockets of woke razor CEOs who profit from putting you down.

They make money by making you feel bad. Jeremy gets rich by making you look great. And by creating alternatives in the market that actually give you a choice. So you don’t have to cut away your values, every time you shave your face.

We can’t build this parallel economy overnight – it’s going to take time.

But with your commitment it will happen. And razors, are just the start.

Well said, sir. From Jeremy’s I Hate Hershey’s webpage:

Some chocolate companies don’t even know what a woman is. But we do.
Indulge in the chocolate binary. One with nuts, one without. You know which is which.

Indeed I do. In fact, contra the ever-heightening pile of “transwomen are REAL women” horseshit, we all do.

More fun quips ‘n quotes from Boreing.

It is nearly a year after Harry’s removed its ads, The Daily Wire has initiated its new razors alongside a humorous four-minute outstanding web ad which is the talk of the internet nowadays.

The ad starts with “god-king” Boreing setting fire to rubber to work in an electric-blue McLaren. After virtually jogging over an employee in the parking lot, he exits the car and asks, “Do you recall when there were only two genders, and only one and a half of them had to trim their mustaches?”

And that is only the warm-up.

He whips out the flame thrower and further adds, “If you have had enough of the woke bullshit,” and you are tired of paying groups like Gillette and Harry’s to hate you, then get my new razor instead.

Along with flame throwers, the ad also features sexy women, hot cars, a shirtless, carved Adonis, and that is the most homoerotic time you will ever get from a Jeremy’s Razors commercial and over-caffeinated Dennis Miller as it defines Jeremy as the razor of choice for men, firefighters, cowboys, and ‘those gentlemen who shot Osama bin Laden.’ The ad is marked as funny. However, it is not all over-the-top humor.

He whips out the flame thrower and further adds, “If you have had enough of the woke bullshit,” and you are tired of paying groups like Gillette and Harry’s to hate you, then get my new razor instead.

Along with flame throwers, the ad also features sexy women, hot cars, a shirtless, carved Adonis, and that is the most homoerotic time you will ever get from a Jeremy’s Razors commercial and over-caffeinated Dennis Miller as it defines Jeremy as the razor of choice for men, firefighters, cowboys, and ‘those gentlemen who shot Osama bin Laden.’ The ad is marked as funny. However, it is not all over-the-top humor.

“Our country is in distress,” Boreing instructs as the commercial draws to a climax. “Conservatives are being abolished by the media, Hollywood, universities, and now, Harry’s Razors. Resist lending your money to woke companies who do not believe you deserve their product. Offer it to me instead,” he concludes as a huge flag emblazoned with his picture, and the phrase “Shut Up and Shave” unfurls from the roof.

The commercial is entertaining, and the product illustration comprises “the best shave kit ever built and its preferred pronouns are Buy Now.”

Any red-blooded Real American Normal has just gotta love it…and I assuredly do. As Tennessee Ernie Ford used to say, in those old TV ads for Martha White flour: “Goodness gracious, it’s pea-pickin’ good!”

Can’t get enough of that Cocaine Bear stuff!

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It’s highly addictive.

Sequel ‘Rehab Bear’ Green-Lit By Producers
LOS ANGELES, CA — Due to the overwhelming popularity of the film Cocaine Bear, movie studio executives and producers announced they have already green-lighted a sequel — an emotional, psychological film reportedly titled Rehab Bear.

“We thought it would be really great to see where the bear goes from here,” said producer Curt Schampers. “We’ve seen him in the throes of cocaine addiction, raging at the world. What happens when he is forced into rehab and discovers that his true enemy…is the bear within?”

The studio has reached out to Martin Scorsese to direct the project, described as part One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, part Taxi Driver, part Tommy Boy. The story reportedly features the formerly cocaine-addled grizzly bear being checked into a rehab facility by his loved ones to deal with his inner demons. “It’s much more of a low-key, psychological drama than the first film,” Schampers continued. “This is about the bear really digging down deep into his soul, finding the true source of his drug addiction, and also mauling and killing dozens and dozens of other people at the rehab facility.”

Producers were expected to use a mixture of live bears and CGI bears, despite the rumored interest of renowned actor Daniel Day-Lewis in playing the role of the bear.

At publishing time, creators of the film were already brainstorming potential future installments of the franchise, including Relapse Bear, Cocaine Bear Hits Rock Bottom, and the natural conclusion of the series — Cocaine Bear Runs for Congress.

Damn, looks like I may have to break my decades-long, indifference-induced streak of not bothering about going to the movies with all this edifying fare in the cinematic pipeline. Don’t laugh too hard, though; Hollywood being Hollywood—entirely bereft of new ideas and creative spark, struggling to put asses in theater seats, desperate to keep the money machine whirring merrily along—you know damned well they’ll do it.

No justice, no peace

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Waitwaitwait, boogs are equestrians now too? My late wife was a professional Hunter-Jumper rider and a trainer as well, and I can’t recollect seeing any of our darker-complected brethren (or, y’know, sistren) at the many events she dragged me off to over the course of our tragically-foreshortened union. I mean, really now: who knew?

New York Times Discovers a New Source of Racism, and This One Could Be the Most Ridiculous Yet

The New York Times, that intrepid warrior for anything and everything that the Left is hysterical about, on Friday published a lengthy piece about a source of systemic racism that no one has ever noticed before: It seems that equestrian helmets are racist because they don’t accommodate the dreadlocks that some black horse riders wear. One black rider’s mother lamented: “Mostly everything in this sport isn’t designed for us.” Well, that’s got to change, and these Jackie Robinsons of the Coiffure, with the Times’ generous help, are leading the way to the Equestrian Helmet Justice that our society so desperately needs.

Chanel Robbins, the Times tells us solemnly, “has been riding horses most of her life, ever since her grandmother traded a cow from their family’s farm in Ontario for a pony when she was 7.” Horse riding “offered an escape from thoughts that weighed on her,” which included the fact that “she was the only Black girl in the neighborhood.” But when she grew dreadlocks, her helmet didn’t fit anymore, and that, as you must know by now, is racist.

Fighting back tears (really, the Times actually said she was), Robbins said: “I finally freaking feel like myself, and now society is asking me to change. I just want to be able to ride.” How dare Whitey do this! Is there nothing to which he will not stoop? Poor Chanel Robbins can only find relief on the back of a horse from the systemic racism that confronts her every hour in Amerikkka, but now Whitey has taken even that away!

The Times generously ascribes this not to malice, but to callous indifference: “Black equestrians have long felt virtually invisible in a sport that remains overwhelmingly white. For those with natural hair, which for many is a declaration of pride and Black identity, finding a helmet that fits properly can be nearly impossible, creating yet another barrier to full inclusion.” Big Helmet (ah, but not big enough) is just as indifferent to their plight as Whitey in general: “Some are now lobbying for change, mindful that horseback riding is among the leading causes of sports-related traumatic brain injury. The helmet companies say there isn’t a simple fix.”

The second most-dangerous sport in the world, actually, or used to be anyway. Snow-skiing being the first, back when my wife told me about it. Spencer’s next bit is truly sidesplitting, so swallow that mouthful of whatever you’re drinking or eating before reading on.

Well, yeah. What are the helmet companies going to do, make the helmets three feet wide? This most first-world of all first-world problems brings Oscar Gamble to mind. Baseball fans of a certain age will remember Mr. Gamble, who played major league baseball in the 1970s while sporting an Afro of truly awe-inspiring proportions. In my neighborhood, baseball cards featuring Oscar Gamble with his baseball cap stuck on the massive thing, making his head and hair look like three planets of roughly similar size orbiting in close proximity to one another, were a coveted commodity. Many marveled at his hair, some dared to laugh, but Gamble himself took it all in stride. Never once did he demand that the people who manufactured baseball caps fashion one large enough to go around his huge hair. The white kids who played baseball in the 1970s often had long hair also, and got used to having it mashed uncomfortably under the cap. In life, sometimes one must put up with a bit of discomfort, or sacrifice one desired item in order to obtain another. But that was before everything, and I do mean everything, became racist.

A pic of Gamble—who racked up good enough stats over his long and storied career as a power-hitting Major League DH to be able to wear his hair any damned way he liked—and his ludicrous, totally off-the-chain ‘Fro.

OscarGambleFro

Couldn’t say why, exactly, but for some strange reason that photo puts me in mind of the classic Mad magazine parody of Starsky & Hutch—renamed Harsky & Stutch, natch—wherein the Huggy Bear character was rejiggered (ahem) into “Buggy Hair.” Gamble is also remembered among baseball mavens for his brilliant Jive-speak quote referencing the general organizational chaos that plagued the Yankees at the time he was playing for them: “They don’t think it be like it is, but it do.”

Heh. Anyways, onwards.

And so now the Times tells us that Caitlin Gooch, “who wears her hair in locs that fall to her mid-back,” takes her riding helmet along when she gets her hair done, “to ensure it will still fit.” That’s perfectly reasonable and sensible. If someone wants some extravagant hairstyle, it might cause difficulties in other areas. Sometimes one must choose between the two. But Gooch “started teaching riding lessons” and “found herself having to tell children they couldn’t ride if there was no helmet that properly fit them.” This was, once again, perfectly reasonable, but apparently it’s a new and heinously racist offense in the Times’ dizzy and ugly world.

Yeah, well, what ain’t nowadays, according to these determinedly miserable shitlib gimps.

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Dr (The) Science gets told

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GOD, how I love this.


More at GP.

Last night Arizona activist Melissa Lively and filmmaker Eric Strause were dining in Washington DC when Dr. Tony Fauci entered the restaurant with two bodyguards. It is not clear at this point if these were government-funded bodyguards but they reportedly did have badges.

Melissa posed for a photo with Dr. Fauci and gave him some much-needed feedback. She flipped him the bird.

On Saturday The Gateway Pundit contacted Eric and Melissa. Eric told us they were at the restaurant when Dr. Fauci walked in. No doubt, Fauci was expecting a standing ovation, instead he received the much-deserved feedback. According to Eric, Fauci’s bodyguards told him this was not the place for showing their objection to Fauci’s policies. Eric told the bodyguard, “I was not able to attend my father’s funeral because of this man!” Eric told security, “My father could not take Ivermectin because of this guy!”

Three years after the start of the pandemic we now see that the COVID-19 virus was made in a Wuhan lab funded by Dr. Fauci. Then he bribed scientists to not rat him out.

Today we also understand that Fauci’s policies ruined the economy, ruined business owners, ruined child development, destroyed our personal liberties, and ruined millions of lives.

It’s about time Fauci got a little feedback.

To say the absolute least, yeah; if you ask me, it’s about time the poisonous little homunculus got a damned sight more than just a little momentary discomfort in a public place. He of right ought to be looking at a long stretch in Marion or Joliet, and in a better, more just world he would be. Personally, I prefer he be either drawn and quartered or hung by the neck until dead, dead, DEAD for his heinous crimes. But what the hell, noncorporeal humiliation isn’t a bad first step down the winding, interminable road to justice—particularly since it’s all we’re ever going to get from TPTB, and we all know it is.

Until such time, at any rate, as We The People take matters into our own hands and begin dealing out some true justice at long, long last, not just to Fraudci but to all of his fellow Deep State malefactors as well. Meanwhile, the Hawaiian Good Luck Sign is just going to have to suffice.

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A love for the ages

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Ace posts a truly touching correspondence between The Right Honorable Braindead Sen John “Kwato” Fetterman and his loving spouse, Gisele.

America’s foremost Pompous Documentarian Ken Burns has been collecting the correspondence of John and Gisele Fetterman. He has shared with me their most recent exchanges, which I will now share with you.

I think you will agree that this love is a fire whose embers will smolder and glow throughout eternity.

 

Fettermanletter 1

 

Giseleletter 1

Fettermanletter 2

Giseleletter 2

Yep, a story of love, devotion, and self-sacrifice worthy of Shakespeare himself, this one. Probably one of those that ends up with everybody bleeding out on the fucking floor at the very end.

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The upraised middle digit of Diogenes

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Porretto hips us to a blogger I’d never run across before, and behold! She. Is. Good.

Democrat Rep Denies Black People Have God-Given Rights. Then Steps on Rake for Good Measure

Truly, we are governed by the dumbest people, and I don’t mean that as a generic insult. I mean that in the most technical way possible. The United States government is populated and run by some of the least knowledgeable mediocrities on earth.

To provide evidence of that, I bring you Rep. Steve Cohen (D-TN), a man that’s no stranger to beclowning himself for the cameras. After all, this is the same guy who once brought a bucket of KFC to a hearing because then-AG Bill Barr rescheduled.

On Tuesday, Cohen decided to go on a rant denouncing the “right-wing” Supreme Court for doing things like upholding the constitution and forcing the Biden administration to follow the law. In the midst of that, the congressman proclaimed that women and black people don’t have God-given rights.

I’m sure that sounded a lot more smarter in his head.

God is not the US government. God-given rights (natural rights) are not bestowed by pieces of paper written by men. That conflation not only makes no sense, but it is the exact opposite of what the phrase God-given rights means in any historical context. Inalienable rights exist outside and in isolation of any government dictate. If rights come from politicians, then they aren’t rights. They are simply allowances by overlords.

Cohen apparently doesn’t grasp that and instead believes that a right doesn’t exist until the US government bestows it upon someone. Such a viewpoint is not only constitutionally illiterate, but it’s also dangerous in that it assumes unlimited power exists in the hands of an overarching, malleable human authority.

Unfortunately, Cohen’s view, dumb as it may be, is popular on the left. They have turned the US government into a god to be worshiped. No one has the right to do anything unless the overpaid elites in Washington give their stamp of approval. Thankfully, at least for now, the United States has a Supreme Court that is willing to check the Democratic Party’s most authoritarian instincts. At least for now.

An important caveat, that is. Because, as with all other good things, it too will sooner or later come to an end. And just like that, bang, zoom, into Ye Olde CF Blogrolle she goes.

2

FAFO, epitomized

Posted on      by     

Ordinarily I’d have knocked off posting for the night around two-three posts ago, but I’m enjoying playing with MarsEdit too much to stop myself now.

Divemedic posts the feel-good video of the year 2016, after a long and arduous search for it.

Is it EVER a good idea to try robbing a gun store, ferchrissakes? And yet somehow, these idjits just keep right on doing it anyway.

2

Oscar SWEEP coming?

Posted on      by     

Analysis: TRUE AS ALL HELL.

In A Just World, ‘Cocaine Bear’ Would Sweep The Oscars

Regrettably—tragically, even—this is NOT that world.

In 1985, in the Chattahoochee National Forest in Georgia, a bear came upon a trove of cocaine which had been dumped from a plane by trafficker Andrew Thornton. The bear then consumed either some or all of the drug and overdosed, depending on which version of the story you prefer. In 2023, in the newly released movie “Cocaine Bear,” written by Jimmy Warden and directed by Elizabeth Banks, the story takes a decidedly different turn, one in which the bear develops a strong affinity for the drug and goes on a murderous rampage.

The result is a shining example of the type of content Hollywood should be producing.

It’s a gory, rollicking romp through several stories which become intertwined thanks to the cocaine bear. There’s Daveed, played by Ice Cube’s son O’Shea Jackson Jr., who’s been charged by kingpin Syd, portrayed by Ray Liotta in one of his final roles, with recovering the drug scattered across the forest in duffle bags. Accompanying Daveed is Eddie, played by Alden Ehrenreich, who is trying to leave the family business and is wrecked with grief over his wife losing her battle with cancer. Along the way, they pick up a hoodlum. Their story is a blood-soaked buddy comedy.

All of those people get killed, though the cocaine bear doesn’t directly kill and dismember all of them, just most of them. Most of the principal characters survive, but not before they come together to learn lessons about parenting, friendship, teamwork, and fighting a cocaine-addled bear.

Heads are removed. Limbs torn off. Blood splashing hither and thither. Body parts bouncing hither and thither. There are jokes, such as when the hooligan teaches Eddie how he can better talk to his own son. There are tender moments, also exemplified by the hooligan teaching Eddie how to better communicate with his son.

What there aren’t are any lectures. There are no teachable moments, unless you count the one that comes at the beginning of the film and is credited to Wikipedia, that in a normal encounter with a black bear, the smart play is to fight back. It’s 95 minutes of insanity that serves no purpose other than to entertain.

In a just world, those 95 minutes of blood-soaked carnage would be guaranteed to earn multiple Oscars, from best screenplay to best director to best film. Alas, the lack of teachable moments probably means that won’t happen, but it matters not. For what matters is that in 2023, we have a movie that hearkens back to earlier times, back when Hollywood sought not to make us better people, but to distract us for a while, to invite us to imagine possibilities like “what if a bear got hooked on cocaine?”

One of the truly burning questions of our era, for sure. But seriously, now: movies as entertainment, not holier-than-thou finger-wagging? How very quaint.

“You’re a monkey”? SRSLY?!?

Posted on      by     

Irony so intense it could raise a blister on billet aluminum.


He looks a little like Tyrone Biggums. This vid must be an example of some of that White Privilege we’re always hearing about, I guess.

Update! Nope, it ain’t just me, there’s a striking resemblance there.



1

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