Category: Flotsam and/or Jetsam

Catchall for whatever doesn’t fit elsewhere

Behind the Hollywood scenes

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Two wonderful backstage tales via KT.


The story continues from there, to wind up in a place you probably wouldn’t expect: Bronson and Russell skateboarding together all over the studio lot, in open defiance of insurance regs against it. Good, good stuff. Next up: how Bugs Bunny saved Mel Blanc’s life.


The follow-on dialogue is priceless.


Heh. I can think of but one way to respond to that.

The shakiest guns in the, umm, East

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Q: Are cops in FLA the worst in the known universe?

A: Apparently, yes. Yes, they are.

Cop resigns after mistaking falling acorn for gunshot, firing at unarmed suspect cuffed in patrol car
A Florida cop resigned after opening fire on an unarmed black man who was handcuffed in his patrol car — because he confused the sound of an acorn hitting the vehicle with a muffled gunshot.

Okaloosa County Sheriff’s Deputy Jesse Hernandez handed in his badge in December following the Nov. 12 Fort Walton Beach incident, officials said Friday.

Sgt. Beth Roberts, who also opened fire, was exonerated in an internal investigation and remained on the job, according to police.

The suspect, Marquis Jackson, was luckily uninjured, but the “situation was traumatic” for him, police acknowledged.

The video of the incident is…well, quite frankly, it’s pathetic.


If you look closely, you can see the falling acorn highlighted against one of the light-grey rowhouses in the background, just before it hits the roof and scares Officer Pissypants out of his meager wits. Next up, vid of the other trigger-happy Deppity Dawg blasting away in “support” of her panicky fellow Offissa Pupp and likewise hitting nothing much.


Uh huh, luckily. A pair of regular Deadeye Dicks, these two. And just never anybody mind that these shooty-shooty knuckleheads popped off thirty rounds most ricky-tick (depending on issue mag capacity, natch; it coulda been sixty)—smack dab in the middle of a residential neighborhood, mind—at a handcuffed “shooter” who, presumably, had been patted down by Sooperdoopercop before he was ever put into the patrol car, thus already verified to be unarmed.

Presumably.

So guess what the PD review board “investigation” concluded regarding this disgraceful fiasco? Go on, guess. I dares ya.

Investigators concluded that Hernandez was culpable for a “policy violation regarding excessive use of control to resistance,” but that Roberts’ “use of deadly force was objectively reasonable.”

No criminal charges were filed against either officer.

Yeah, I thought not. But…“control to resistance”? SRSLY?!? There WAS NO resistance, of any kind. How the hell could there have been? The “shooter” was securely cuffed and locked in the squad car’s perp seat, behind the standard doors without handles, therefore posed no conceivable threat to anybody, badged/heeled or no.

Meanwhile, according to another Tweet I saw, Marquis Jackson (who will doubtless be known as “Lucky” to the other hoodrats forevermore), was cleared of his vengeful ex-ho’s firearms-possession accusations against him.

So at the end of the day it’s a happy ending, I suppose: Hernandez is off the force and out of a job he was manifestly unsuited for, and Jackson is none the worse for wear. Well, apart from the heart-attack-inducing levels of stress brought on by being the helpless, immobilized schnook used for target practice during a hot-range double mag-dump by two (2) cops, neither of whom had any business ever being handed a badge and a gun in the first place, that is.

For 2A folks as well, there’s a cherry on top of this shit sundae: we can take some small comfort that if it’s timorous, overwrought, weak-sister incompetents such as Hernandez and Roberts who’ll be tasked with tippy-toeing door to door to confiscate the guns, then we probably don’t have a whole hell of a lot to worry about. They simply ain’t gonna be up to it, and if any hot-lead-exchange should break out, the Keystone Kops demonstrably couldn’t hit the broad side of a bull’s ass with a baseball bat if you gave ‘em three tries at it. The most serious hazard to firearms enthusiasts in such an eventuality will be parting a floating rib from its moorings, from laughing so damned hard at them.

I dunno, though; kinda makes me wonder if there might not be something to all that angst, dread, and fear the boogs have for years claimed to suffer from merely being in the general vicinity of uniformed 5-0 after all, though I’ve always dismissed that shit out of hand until now. Either way, somewhere out there the infamous “Broward Coward” must be breathing a deep sigh of relief at seeing this mind-bending clusterfuck, secure in the knowledge that he’s at last been outdone by the Excessively Dynamic Duo© and their assclownish antics.

About those various “national anthems”

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Aesop would like a quiet word.

Pardon us for not noticing this egregious public jackassery before now, having paid no interest nor attention whatsoever to yesterday’s Sportsbowl. But reportedly, they had someone singing some alleged “Black National Anthem”.

Which leads us, inexorably, to the obvious question:

When and where did anyone grant independence to some part of the United States, and declare the new nation of Ni**erstan, Welfaria, Jigaboola, or Jimbobwe established?

There are, when last we looked, literally dozens of black national anthems. In countries from Sudan to South Africa, and Liberia to Somalia. Also, doubtless, in Haiti and Jamaica. Was one of these countries’ anthems selected? If so, for what reason? Did a football team from Nigeria make it to the Superbowl this year, without us hearing about it?

Furthermore, the republic already having a national anthem, anyone at that contest possessed of American citizenship who didn’t boo, catcall, and throw things at the announcers box throughout any poseur anthem should be stripped of citizenship and deported.

And if, as has frequently been the case, taking a knee during the actual National Anthem is acceptable for Activists Of Color, then by all means, white people dropping their trousers and slapping their naked asscheeks in the direction of Wakanda should be an appropriate protest for playing this Ode To Buckwheat any time, anywhere.

Personally, I lost interest and tuned out this year’s Stuporbowl after the team captains met at midfield for the traditional wiping of their asses with the US flag, right as they were tying the white family of four to the back bumper of an old pickup for the traditional dragging around the perimeter of the field for five (5) laps, to the elated roars of the mostly-Blaque throng.

Hey, when the nig-nogs insist that “it’s a black thing, you wouldn’t understand,” I’m more than happy to take that axiom to heart and apply it to the Nigger Felons League championship extravaganza. If I want to have some friends over to eat nachos and drink beer, I don’t have to have some bullshit “Big Game” blaring from my TeeWee all day long to do it.

Fuck ’em if they can’t take a joke

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Comedian David Lucas gives ‘em hell. Rather, he gives ‘em the plain and simple truth, and they think it’s hell.

‘I like Kyle Rittenhouse too!’ Comedian rips on George Floyd, black audience members storm out
Representing exhibit A in the case of why those readily triggered shouldn’t go to live comedy shows, David Lucas doubled down on controversy after daring to invoke the name of George Floyd during a set at the Kansas City Funny Bone.

The standup star, who built a career on MTV’s “Yo Momma” and later on the All Def Digital program “Roast Me” before opening for the likes of Joe Rogan and Louis CK, recently shared a video of an incident from a January performance where an interaction with a heckler went too far for some black audience members.

In a snippet of the incident shared by The Post Millenial’s senior editor Andy Ngô, Lucas had just finished unsuccessfully trying to talk an audience member to come on stage to get roasted and said, “All these f*ckin’ good a** white people at my show and you want to show them the reason George Floyd got his neck kneeled on?”

“Don’t ‘oo’ at that joke. It’s just a joke man. I would have never kneeled on George Floyd’s neck,” the comedian said as the audience had mixed reactions. “I would have shot that n*gga.”

A back-and-forth proceeded before the first of several audience members decided to bail on the rest of the performance with one man asserting to Lucas, “You need to know about George Floyd before you get yo a** up there talking about him. You really stoop low to be funny don’t you know that.”

“It’s called comedy,” the comedian replied before another group felt he “took it too far” and chafed at the jokes.

“I can tell you voted for Biden,” Lucas ripped as one woman made a production of leaving the show. “You already bought that VIP ticket. I already got that $42.”

“Buy a t-shirt on the way out too. I got a Make America Roast Again shirt in the style of Trump,” the comedian added.

With another parting shot, he riled those offended by jokes about the May 2020 death of Floyd in police custody by calling back to an incident that happened amid the ensuing riots and said, “I like Kyle Rittenhouse too!”

In sharing over 16 minutes of the show on YouTube, Lucas had titled the video “Controversial Joke Infuriates Crowd, Show Spirals Out of Control,” and days after it was posted, the same attitude that led to the walkouts had him pointing out on Facebook, “[I’m] currently getting ‘Cancelled’ for a joke, and i do not apologize about the joke at All, i will continue to joke about Everything.”

Good on ya, Dave, you damned sure got the right idea about what cutting-edge comedy is supposed to be all about—NOTHING sacred, NOTHING out of bounds, NOTHING off limits, NO bridge too far, NO topic too hot to touch. Shouldn’t oughta have bought a ticket if they can’t handle the ride. Keep sticking to your guns no matter what, it really is the only way.

Another day…

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…another deranged “transgender” Manwoman© shooting up the place.

Here’s Everything We Know About the Megachurch Shooter
The now-deceased gunman who opened fire inside a famous Texas megachurch run by Joel Osteen Sunday afternoon has been identified as an identity-switching Hispanic woman with pro-Palestine, antisemitic beliefs.

36-year-old Genesse Ivonne Moreno, a biological female who used multiple male aliases, was wearing a trench coat when she entered the Houston-based Lakewood Church with two rifles, a backpack, and a young child by her side around 2 p.m. Sunday.

According to Commander Christopher Hassig of HPD’s homicide division during Monday’s press conference, the sticker simply stated “Palestine” on the long gun’s buttstock. In addition to the Anderson-manufacturing AR-15, which she used to carry out the church shooting, Moreno possessed a .22 caliber rifle by Blue Line Solutions on her person, but it was not fired at the time.

Authorities have also uncovered “antisemitic writings” in Moreno’s possession.

Hassig said police believe there was “a familiar dispute” that took place between her ex-husband and her ex-husband’s family. “Some of those individuals are Jewish. So, we believe that might possibly be where all of this stems from,” Hassig stated.

Dayumm, a possible self-gassing Jew for the Nutjob Trifecta too? I admit, I did NOT see that coming.

There were two victims injured: The seven-year-old boy, allegedly used as a human shield, was hit during the exchange of gunfire and taken to Texas Children’s Hospital in critical condition; a 57-year-old man, an innocent bystander, was shot in the leg.

The child caught in the crossfire suffered a gunshot to the head and remains hospitalized.

Moreno is the child’s biological mother. She’s posted “#momlife” and “#motherandson” content with pictures of a boy in her care.

In the past, Moreno assumed the altar-ego Jeffery Escalante as well as other male-presenting personas.

Moreno’s Facebook page—which expressed leftist, anti-police views—has since been scrubbed. Moreno’s since-deleted Instagram account featured posts of her cleaning an AR-15 and donating money to Lakewood Church. There, she uploaded a screenshot of the contribution’s confirmation. “[A]s for me and my household…I will honor and bless my church,” Moreno wrote on Instagram.

In the lead-up to the 2020 presidential election, Moreno supported socialist Sen. Bernie Sanders (I-VT). “I WANT HIM IN THE OFFICE AS THE US PRESIDENT,” she wrote in an Instagram post, uploading a photograph of Sanders on the campaign trail.

Arrest records show she was an El Salvadoran immigrant.

Jesus tapdancin’ Christ, is there any present-day socio/political/personal pathology this pluperfect looney-tooney doesn’t represent? Of course you know what this means, right? To wit: all normal, sane Real Americans who never shot anybody and never will must yield up their 2A rights immediately so something like this can never, ever happen again. Best-case scenario: the whole sad, sorry story will be alacritously hurled down the memory hole in 3…2…1…

HORRIBLE news

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So my good friend BCE’s lovely wife, a truly sweet, good-hearted woman I’ve had the good fortune to meet IRL a few times, is laid up with breast cancer. Their insurance situation is not all that might be wished, so BC’s throwing a GoFundMe to help ensure she gets the care she needs, and asked me to mention it here. What I think I’m gonna do today and tomorrow is whip up some kind of image to put up in the right sidebar for ‘em. Much love and positive thoughts for both of ‘em from here.

Predator popped

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Admittedly, I am of two minds on this one. Two at least, maybe more.

Minnesota mom arrested for alleged sexual romp with two boys, 15, after spat with hubby
From hot tub to hotel room, a Minnesota mom was arrested for alleged criminal sexual conduct with two boys she claimed “she wasn’t going to go through with.”

Marital issues were reportedly blamed for 39-year-old Allison Leigh Schardin’s alleged felonies in mid-January when her family found themselves staying at the same hotel as a visiting hockey team. According to a report from the Star Tribune, after being arrested Thursday the mother of two young sons admitted to sexual contact with two 15-year-old boys she’d engaged with in a poolside chat.

Faced with third- and fourth-degree criminal sexual conduct, Schardin was said to have been discussing her marital problems with team players visiting from Colorado while she, her husband and their children were having a staycation in Roseville on Jan. 14.

When the players had returned to their rooms, the Blaine, Minnesota mom was said to have sent a Snapchat asking if she could join them.

Once there, she was said to have started talking with the boys about “sex and stuff,” got into bed with two of the boys and questioned them about their sexual activity. It was then that she allegedly performed sexual acts on them and asked them to perform sexual acts on her while a third boy was said to have watched, according to the Tribune.

If convicted, the maximum sentence for the third-degree criminal sexual conduct included up to 15 years imprisonment and/or a fine up $30,000 while the penalty for fourth-degree criminal sexual conduct maxed out at ten years imprisonment and/or a fine up to $20,000.

Her first court appearance was scheduled for Monday.

Okay, okay, I realize it was wrong of this dame to betray the trust bestowed on her by the Minneapolitans who put her in a position of responsibility she was patently unsuited for. I get all that, honestly I do. Nonetheless, I also remember what I was like when I was a fifteen-year-old boy; after seeing Schardin’s pic, I also know how delighted I would’ve been to…well, just take a look yourself.

See what I mean? At fifteen, if I’d had a romp with a hottie like that I woulda been fairly busting with pride, eager to dash right out and brag about the experience to any and every one of my peers who was willing to hear me out, right down to the last sweaty detail. I’m sure my mom and dad would’ve felt otherwise about it, of course, and would certainly have made their displeasure known to every authority figure within reach. But still.

The boys will have a ready-made audience at their high school, waiting for them with bated breath. They’ll be at the center of a sizable crowd whenever the grown-ups aren’t around, all a-twitter and expectant, primed to hear the thrilling tale told again and again. Hell, all the other boys will treat them like heroes, I don’t doubt. A solid percentage of the girls will probably despise them, sincerely and heatedly. Many will act as if they do for appearance’s sake, but will secretly find the taboo tryst darkly exciting, even compelling, ample cause not to shun them but to quietly seek them out.

As the old-school bikers liked to say, the ladies do love an outlaw, like a little boy loves a stray dog. From my own life-experience, I can confirm that this assessment is essentially true and accurate, if perhaps not universally so. As y’all CF Lifers© may recall, I effusively sung a jubilee of praise for such ladies many years back, in the post that first brought this humble, hitherto-unknown little websty to prominence when my friend and fellow OG-blogger Stephen Green linked to it at his pre-PJM Vodkapundit hang.

15 years and/or 30k? A felony, ferchrissake? All this for taking advantage—however unrighteous—of teenage horndogs who I guaran-damn-tee you do NOT see themselves as “victims” in any way, shape, or form, and probably never will? Who will more likely cherish fond memories of their youthful illicit adventure for the rest of their days; won’t be haunted by a moment’s remorse or regret; and will smile softly and slyly to themselves every time the memory pops into mind?

I dunno. As wrong as this MILF’s actions were; as psychologically/emotionally askew as she appears to be; as surpassingly unwise, injudicious, and just plain reckless as she inarguably is, that seems to me a mite harsh. If the punishment is supposed to fit the crime, I’m thinking the scales are way out of balance in this particular instance. Could be that’s just me though, I do admit it. But still.

During Blaque Hissreh Mumf ‘n’ sheeit?

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An insult, if you like.

Squatters take over 1,200 homes in Atlanta, open illegal strip clubs and terrorize neighbors: ‘Is this even America?’
Squatters are ruining entire neighborhoods in Atlanta and police response to evict is so slow, some homeowners have resorted to paying nuisances to leave.

Brazen squatters even opened an illegal strip club on a property they had taken over — one of the 1,200 homes which has been squatted in the city, according to the National Rental Home Council (NRHC) trade group.

“I’d be terrified in Atlanta to lease out one of my properties,” Matt Urbanski, who manages a local home-cleaning company, told Bloomberg.

Urbanski’s company cleans out homes for corporate landlords, and in some cases has to remove squatters’ possessions.

Recently one of his employees was shot after attempting to remove intruders from a property.

Simon Frost, CEO of large-scale landlord Tiber Capital Group, said there have been incidents of unlawful occupants brandishing weapons and threatening neighbors, which affects the safety of neighborhoods and other residents, according to Bloomberg.

Evicting squatters in Atlanta is tough, involving negotiating court backlogs and strained police resources.

Gee, Atlanta being Atlanta—“The city too busy to hate,” as they used to like to say of themselves—one wonders how those police resources might have become so “strained.” This next is the part I like best.

In October, an Atlanta neighborhood found itself at the center of a scandal involving squatters who transformed a home into an illegal strip club, complete with weekend parties and even live horses on the property.

Live horses?

‘Nuff said.

Update! Forgot to include the link, fixed now, with my apologies. Got way too many irons in the fire this evening, I’m afraid.

SO, how’s that 15-20 buck an hour minimum wage working out for ya, anyway?

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NOT. TOO. GOOD.

McDonald’s CEO promises ‘affordability’ amid backlash over $18 Big Mac combos, $6 hash browns
McDonald’s CEO admitted the burger giant’s sales have taken a hit as jacked-up menu prices have turned off core customers — and signaled the chain plans to focus on “affordability” this year.

The Chicago-based fast-food behemoth — which has lately taken heat over a Big Mac combo meal priced at nearly $18 — said its global same-store sales in the latest quarter had grown just 3.4%, falling short of the 4.7% growth Wall Street had expected.

The lackluster quarter — which the company also blamed on conflict in the Middle East that has slammed franchisees overseas — sent McDonald’s shares on the New York Stock Exchange tumbling nearly 4%, to $285.97, at Monday’s close.

“I think what you’re going to see as you head into 2024 is probably more attention to what I would describe as affordability,” McDonald’s chief executive Chris Kempczinski said on a Monday earnings call with analysts.

In particular, low income customers making less than $45,000 per year have largely stopped ordering from McDonald’s. Pummeled by inflation, they’re eating at home more frequently as grocery prices come down, Kempczinski admitted.

Last week, a McDonald’s outpost in Connecticut got slammed over its “outrageous pricing” after a customer was charged $7.29 for an Egg McMuffin — and nearly $5.69 for a side of hash browns.

Over the summer, a franchisee in nearby Darien, Conn., was called out for charging $17.59 for Big Mac combo meal. That location also sold a Quarter Pounder with Cheese and Bacon meal that came with fries and a soda for $19, according to viral posts.

Experts have also warned that fast food prices could climb even higher as minimum wage hikes are implemented across the country. California’s $20-an-hour minimum wage for fast food workers goes into effect in April.

McDonald’s and Chipotle both announced that they would be hiking the prices of menu items at Golden State locations beginning this year.

Because of COURSE they will. Why wouldn’t they—actually, how could they NOT, if they want to continue to exist and turn even a piddling profit? In the era of Bidenflation and a worthless paper dollar, the idiot protesters demanding fifteen bucks an hour are going to protest themselves right out of a job and onto the unemployment rolls before it’s all said and done, which serves them right if you ask me. May they all have joy of their foolish choice.

Git-fiddlin’

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A fascinating list of the most expensive guitars EVAR, including this one.

5. Reach Out to Asia Fender Stratocaster

Sold: Qatar, 2005
Price: $2,700,000

Unique here in that it was never owned by a superstar, the Reach Out to Asia Strat was auctioned for victims of the 2004 Indian Ocean tsunami.

It was a humble Mexican Standard Stratocaster bearing the signatures of Mick Jagger, Keith Richards, Eric Clapton, Brian May, Jimmy Page, David Gilmour, Jeff Beck, Pete Townsend, Mark Knopfler, Ray Davies, Liam Gallagher, Ronnie Wood, Tony Iommi, Angus and Malcolm Young, Paul McCartney, Sting, Ritchie Blackmore, Def Leppard and Bryan Adams. 

New made-in-Mexico Strats sold for around $350 in 2005, making this objectively the most overpriced axe of all time. 

If 2 million seven sounds a tad extravagant to ya, believe me, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.

One of the very best Strats I ever did own was a Mexi-Strat, a Wayne’s World model, incredible as it may seem. Hard as I tried to be one, as desperately as I wanted to be one my whole life, I just never could master the Stratocaster. Me, I’m way more of a Gibson guy, myself. That said, enjoy this vidya of little ol’ moi bashing away on the best guitar I ever did own: a heavily-customized and -tweaked Sam Ash house-brand copy of the grand old Gibson ES5 box, playing a song I’d completely forgotten I wrote until I ran across this h’yar vid just recently.

Good times, good times.

Update! One of the aforementioned tweaks was the replacement of the “master tone” knob, which is pure-tee uselessness defined, with a master volume, which is anything but. The guitar came stock with a volume control for each pickup, which was also extremely useful, but no pickup selector switch, which elevated the master-volume from being merely useful, to damned critical: you needed a way to cut the danged thing off between songs onstage, lest you get either that annoying 40-cycle hum single coil pickups are infamous for, or outright squalling feedback should you be bold enough to remove your damping-hand from the strings for a micro-millisecond, and a quick swipe of that master-volume accomplished that nicely.

An idea whose time has surely come

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Not a sportsball guy by any stretch, so I can’t honestly claim to care one way or the other about what pro athletes (or any athletes, actually) might or might not do, say, or think—or to even to be aware of it, most of the time. But this right here, I support one hundred and ten percent.

Black National Anthem at the Super Bowl
What happens if a white person takes a knee?

The NFL has announced that for the fourth year in a row, the so-called black national anthem, “Lift Every Voice and Sing,” will be performed at the Super Bowl.

It appears we’ve come full circle since the 2004 Democratic National Convention when then-Illinois State Sen. Barack Obama said: “Yet even as we speak, there are those who are preparing to divide us…there’s not a liberal America and a conservative America — there’s the United States of America. There’s not a black America and white America and Latino America and Asian America; there’s the United States of America…We are one people, all of us pledging allegiance to the stars and stripes, all of us defending the United States of America.”

The national anthem is also the black/white/Asian/Hispanic national anthem. It is the national anthem of every citizen.

As for the black national anthem to be sung at the Super Bowl, what’s next? How about playing the University of Michigan fight song? What happens if at least some players reject the narrative that blacks remain victims and consider the singing of the black national anthem at the Super Bowl divisive?

The first white or black player who takes a knee at the Super Bowl during the “black national anthem” will immediately have the league’s bestselling jersey. As Nike says, “Just do it!”

Yes indeedy. Hell, if this idea should take hold and become a trend—not that it will, natch, because RAYCISS!!!©—I might possibly be persuaded to tune in a game on the TeeWee once in a while again, if only for that.

Your Celebrity Gall story of the year

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Two via Ace: first up, Alyssa Milano self-beclowns in most spectacular fashion.

Alyssa Milano responds after critics slam her as ‘out of touch’ for requesting money for son’s baseball trip
‘Charmed’ star Alyssa Milano shares 12-year-old Milo with husband David Bugliari

Actress Alyssa Milano is responding after angering fans on social media by asking if they could donate to her son’s baseball team.

A day after her donation request, Milano took to X, formerly Twitter, to share that she had gotten a lot of “media inquiries about whether [she has] financially contributed to [her] son’s baseball team.”

“I’ve paid for uniforms for the entire team and coaches, thrown bday parties and sponsor any kid who can’t afford monthly dues,” she wrote Friday. “The kids also do fundraising themselves — car washes, movie nights, and many other fun things! Thank you to all who have contributed to the gofundme! You’ve made things easier for these boys and their families.”

Social media users were confused why Milano was asking her followers for money, when she is a multimillionaire. Milano starred on the hit drama “Charmed” for six seasons, and Bugliari is the co-head of motion picture talent at the management firm Creative Artists Agency.

Many were left wondering “why isn’t Alyssa Milano paying for the trip for the whole team herself,” while others were questioning why the actress is “asking for money from people who can barely buy groceries.”

Gotta say, that question occurred to me also. Next up, Kurt Russell provides the antidote, in most refreshing, no-bullshit fashion.


Most hilarious aspect: the “journalist” doing the interview obviously assumed he had himself a natural “gimme” with a big Hollywood name who was just bound to agree with his hoplophobic views such as Russell—OOOOPS!—but ended up getting his butt in the blades and chawed all to hell and gone instead. Y’know, a lot like Billy Bob Thornton’s poor character did in this solid-gold scene.

“You gonna do something, or just stand there and bleed? No? I didn’t think so.” Priceless, just priceless. Nice to know that the guy who could utter those lines so brilliantly really does have his heart in the right place, and ain’t exactly what you’d call shy about saying so either.

Update! Via brack in the comments: Clay Travis steps up, problem solved. Just one leeeeetle catch…and it’s hilarious.


Another “food desert” mirage

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So first, this happened.

In-N-Out has never closed a location, until now. It cites crime as the problem
New York CNN—In-N-Out is permanently closing one of its restaurants for the first time ever, announcing that its Oakland location will soon shutter because of rampant crime in the California city.

The burger chain said in a statement that “despite taking repeated steps to create safer conditions, our customers and associates are regularly victimized by car break-ins, property damage, theft, and armed robberies.”

The location, which has been open for nearly two decades, will close on March 24. It’s the city’s only In-N-Out and is near the airport.

Crime has indeed substantially increased in Oakland: Burglaries were up 23% and motor vehicle thefts were up 44% in 2023 compared to a year prior, according to Oakland Police Department data obtained by CNN affiliate KGO-TV.

In-N-Out said in a statement that while “several” of its locations have relocated in its 75-year history, the Oakland closure is the first restaurant it has closed.

“We feel the frequency and severity of the crimes being encountered by our customers and associates leave us no alternative,” said Chief Operating Officer Denny Warnick, in the statement.

Notably, Warnick said its Oakland location was “busy and profitable,” but it can’t ask its customers or employees to “visit or work in an unsafe environment.” Affected employees, which amount to about 100, will transfer to a nearby restaurant in San Francisco or receive severance.

Then, the reliably-brilliant and hilarious Hodge Twins decided to have way too much fun with it, as is their wont.

Heh. Excellent rip, fellas.

Fashion plates

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The tall but brilliant Diogenes Sarcastic would like a word.

Gentlemen, Stop It! Just Stop It!
By Stop It I mean stop wearing, over a shirt and tie, sleeveless fleece pullovers underneath Suit Coats! Stop it. Just Stop It!! Do you not look in the mirror? Your collars sticking out like a malignant growth saying ‘Look at Me’ I’m Kool! No, You Look Ridiculous! You look homeless with everything you own on all at once!

The first time I noticed this ridiculous combination it was on NYT reporter Michal Schmidt, who just happened to be recently married to the MSNBC wacko Nicole Wallace. I thought okay, this little toad couldn’t be very bright if he married her. But now I see it has spread to places I would not expect to see such clownish recklessness in appearance.  

Find out who started this disgusting trend and bring them to me!

And while I’m at it, who started this unshaven three days of growth look? First it was the bedhead look in hairstyles, and then the ‘I only shave every third month’ because I’m kool like the guys in GQ. No, the guys in GQ are fags, and it makes you look like a derelict, it’s not sexy and doesn’t feel good to the touch. My Gawd man, either grow a nice short beard or shave your face!

That is all.

Yes, MA’AM. Gotta love that woman; nobody else says it quite like she can.

If I remember right, and I may not, the three-days-growth fad—a/k/a “designer stubble”—began with Don Johnson and Miami Vice. In fact, there for a while somebody or other was selling razors specifically designed to leave stubble to emulate the fashionable look of the day. Never tried one myself; I’ve always hated shaving like a bad rash, so skipping a cpl-three days was just SOP. For me, being bestubbled wasn’t a fashion statement, it was an admission that I just didn’t care enough about what I looked like on the off-days to bother.

Nowadays, I use a Panasonic Arc-5 electric for three or four days, then clean up the leavings—of which there are plenty; electric razors purely suck on heavy beard-growth like mine—with my trusty old Fusion ProGlide. This clever strategem saves on blades for the Fusion, which are exorbitantly priced. Don’t last long, either; seeing as how there’s five of ‘em, each single blade is extremely thin, thus they dull easily. Wiping the things dry with a towel when you’re done is a big, fat no-no for these frail things, or so I’ve read. If your bathroom sink isn’t so arranged that you can hang it upside down to drip dry, you can carefully, gently blot the cartridge with a soft, plush towel or cloth. Even with that kid-gloves treatment, they’ll lose their edge with a quickness.

And believe you me, fellas, when your cartridge blades have gone dull, you WILL know it. Won’t much like it, either. Since I usually shave at night—a routine established in my trucking days; starting your 14 hour workday at 5 am affords no leisure for anything more than rolling out of bed, taking a fast whiz, snatching on some clothes, and then shagging ass to the warehouse at top speed—I’m pretty sure the screaming from the agony of scraping five (5) worn-out Fusion blades across my face has woken the neighbors more than just once or twice.

The bedhead thing, though? I’m a-okay with that one, at least when it comes to attractive, sexy females with long, loosely-curling locks. Brunettes or redheads either one, makes no never-mind to me; I’m not at all persnickety about it. I don’t mind seeing those manes flowing all tousled, wild, and free, and I hope I never will.

Knucklebuster blues

Posted on      by     

Well, although I’ve longed ever since having a limb or three chopped off two years ago to be able to get up and turn a wrench again, I never dreamed my return to the ranks of the Most Honorable and Exalted Order of the Gearhead™ would involve working on a blasted…wheelchair?!?

No shit, folks, Memezapoppin’ is delayed tonight due to the fact that I have just spent the last two hours re-installing a wandering hex-head shoulder bolt that somehow worked itself loose from the left backrest riser—without, thankfully, backing out altogether, hitting dirt, and skedaddling off to someplace betwixt here and Timbuktu.

I guess the stupid thing musta rattled out of its assigned threaded orifice because of excessive vibration from the high RPMs the stroked-out big-block Cobra Jet engine installed on this contraption that I…oh God, I can’t even joke about this shit, that’s how not fuckin’ funny it is.

Yep, it’s a long way from banging up my delicate concert-pianist and guitarslinger hands on Harley V-Twins and beater-classic Fords to rasslin’ recalcitranrt wheelchair hardware, all of it straight down. Mind you, the chair I have is actually a no-shit, for-real racing model: Clinton River’s Tailwind, a sweet $800 dealio which was taken off the market years ago ‘cause some doctor fella got hisself hurt in one, sued the company for 8 million simoleons, and won.

How I got mine was, a close friend of mine is always scouting around at the wheelchair store in CLT—his mom has MS and has been locked down in a chair for as long as I’ve known him, which is a lotta years—and happened to see my Tailwind sitting out by the dumpster in back of the store one day, waiting to be hauled off and scrapped. Shane looked it over real good—knowing a thing or two about a thing or two concerning such things as he does—was aware that I’d be in the market for one once I got out of hospital durance vile, and tossed it into his pickup to bring home for me.

I like the thing, actually; the battery-assist never has worked, since the strange-o battery packs have long since gone the way of the dodo just like the chair itself has. Also, it has no brakes on it of any kind, which has taken a great deal of getting used to and requires much careful forethought and attention.

That said, though, it also has quick-detach main wheels and the seat-back folds down flat, making it a lead-pipe cinch to break down, toss into the back seat of the car, and motor on off when the walls here at home begin to close in on me and I just GOTTA get out and go somewhere…ANYwhere. Which is usually about once a week or thereabouts.

The no-parking-brake thingie, though downright dangerous when it isn’t just an ordinary pain in the ass, admits of a blood-simple, inexpensive workaround which I’ve already worked out in my head and plan to implement as soon as possible, transforming this already-rare wheelchair into a true one-of-a-kind custom build. Someday, it’d be nice if I could figure out a way to do away with the heavy electric motors on each of the main wheels and lighten this little jewel up a bit, but since that’s where the splined shafts of the detachable wheels go in and attach, I haven’t got that one figured out yet in such a way that wouldn’t require full-machine-shop access and some serious fabrication.

What can I say; once a gearhead, always a gearhead, I guess.

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