Category: Be nice

Money shot!

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Wasn’t gonna bother with this one originally, since it’s just not the sort of “news” item I give a crap about ordinarily. But then I read the New York Post’s write-up, which is so wonderful I just can’t help myself. First, you get the archetypical Post grabber-headline.

Woman fires gun at her vagina in cam show crotch shot gone horribly wrong

Heh. You begin to see what I mean right off the bat, I betcher. Right smack in the Post’s wheelhouse, a real gopher ball for those guys. But then, this IS the iconic tabloid that gave us the most famous headline in newspaper history, after all. On to the, umm, juicy bits.

Georgia webcam model Lauren Hunter Daman, 27, redefined “crotch shot” after discharging a firearm into her vagina during an alleged sex stunt gone awry.

“The female had shot herself in the vagina accidentally,” paramedic Brittany Rivers reportedly told responding police officers of the incident, which reportedly occurred on the morning of Nov. 9 at a residence in Thomaston, per a report by the Upson County Sheriff, the Smoking Gun reported.

Later interviews with witnesses revealed that the sex pistol-turned-gunshot victim was apparently alone in her bedroom when the weapon — a 9mm handgun — went off.

Officers were first alerted to firearm fiasco after receiving an “accidental gunshot wound” call from the residence, according to the police report. Upon arriving at the scene, a sheriff’s deputy encountered EMS Rivers, who was holding the unloaded handgun and a spent bullet casing in her hands.

She told the officer that Daman had blasted herself in the netherregions.

Police then conducted interviews with Daman’s three housemates, two of whom were present during the accident, to try and shed light on the alleged boudoir backfire.

Jordan Allen, the reported owner of the firearm, told officers that he was “in the kitchen walking back to the bedroom when he heard the gun go off.” Upon reaching the bedroom, Allen discovered Daman with “a small amount of blood” on her leg, at which point she reportedly informed him “that she shot herself accidentally” and apologized.

Meanwhile, a second witness named Cody Starnes told deputies that his mother Addie Ruth Johnson came into his bedroom and reported that “Daman had been shot.”

Allen revealed to officers how her inadvertent vagino-blasty allegedly transpired.

“Boudoir backfire”? “Inadvertent vagino-blasty”? COME ON, MAN!!! Pure, classic Post-age right there, and no mistake about it.

Now, like most of you miscreants and ne’er do wells out there in CF Land, I wouldn’t give a greasy Biden-shart if every last “newspaper” in America went under and ceased all publishing operations by mid-morning tomorrow—excepting the New York Post. Them, and only them, I would truly hate to see close up shop, and would mourn deeply if they did. The loss of such a wonderful news outlet would be a grievous one indeed, a bona fide catastrophe not just for NYC but for the entire nation. Long may those rascals wave, I say! America needs the Post, now more than ever before.

Fire In The Hole update! Pics of Miss Smokin’ Snatch—the Vented Slotte Girl, Kid Kordite Krotch herself—over at the Daily Mail. I have to admit, she’s rather cute in most of ’em, in that gormless-yet-worldly, slutty-naif way you often come across in the better, more upscale trailer parks. Way more so than I expected she would be, anyhoo.

3

Happy Thanksgiving

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Hope all you CFers enjoyed the many blessings of this most uniquely American holiday to the very fullest. For those of you out there cursed with a foul, bitter Leftist at your family’s table every year—contra the all-too-familiar avalanche of “How To Scold Your Loathsome, Racist, Homophobic, Non-Woke Relatives During Thanksgiving Dinner” articles shat forth by the MFM every year, there are quite a few who aren’t so afflicted, the fortiunate sods—may your circle’s gathering have been happy and fulfilling enough to intensify said Lefty ghoul’s self-inflicted wretchedness and misery by orders of magnitude, leaving him with a tale of familial horror, suffering, and despair none of the other insufferable ingrates in the dorm or residence hall could ever hope to top.

7

An unlooked-for victory: SUCK IT, BITCHES!!!

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Whenever they’re unhappy, Real Americans should rejoice.

Anytime you feel froggy enough, Commie. As another great American once put it, I have five dollars for each of you.


If they couldn’t lie, they’d be unable to speak at all.

Whatevs, assholes. I believe Kyle Rittenhouse to be a genuine, true-blue American hero, and don’t give a single shit that you consider him, me, and every Dissident Right patriot white supremacists, fascists, Nazis, racists, and extremists. You and all your fellow-traveling Reds please do feel free to go fuck yourselves blind, then die in a fire and descendeth into Hell to burn for a thousand years. NOW what?

With that brief sampling of The Enemy’s excruciating agony upon witnessing the scarifying spectacle of actual justice being done despite all their best efforts to prevent it, we’ll leave off pointing and laughing at them for the nonce to bring you this deathless reminder that, for all sane, upstanding, non-evil folks, their bitter tears are as the sweetest wine.


Lap it up, fellow Hitlerians. I insisted Kyle would go down, making this another of those extremely rare (a-HENH!) occasions when I have to admit I was wrong, and couldn’t be happier about it. Not a difficult thing, in this instance, this being by far the best-tasting crow I ever had to eat.

Update! To anyone in need of an explanation as to why the Rittenhouse verdict might cause such anguish in Progtardia, there’s a very simple one.

Swiped from WeirdDave, with my thanks.

Update! Courageous, unflappable under unimaginable pressure in the heat of battle, supremely competent, a bona fide hero? One of Herschel’s commenters concisely lays out the case for why you just better believe he is, bub.

This 17-year-old kid was alone, under attack on his life, and beaten to the ground. And in defending himself he managed to harm exactly zero people who were not actively attempting to kill him. Think about that for a moment. How many trained adults could keep their heads — and their aim — that steady under anything like those circumstances? Have to hope he manages to bankrupt several MSM outlets and personages; he’s going to need years to recover from what just happened to him, and he’ll need all the resources he can get.

Agreed, right down the line, without hesitation. This admirable young man is nothing short of exemplary, a marvelous role model every Real American can only hope and pray their own teenagers will try to emulate.

3

Necktie party!

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The Thinking Housewife opens with a real gem of a quote.

“…Federal bureaucrats have been feeding on red meat, but their appetites have only been whetted. They are the most dangerous wielders of power in the nation. They will use that power to redesign society according to their own arrogant notions of egalitarianism.

“What, I wonder, would the Founding Fathers have done with these bureaucrats? I mean would they hang them immediately or, being reflective men, would they save that recreation for dawn tomorrow, the better to start a new day?”

Amazingly, that note-perfect assessment was written by…wait for it…wait for it…

A fucking journalist? SRSLY?!? Specifically and to wit, “Pulitzer Prize-winning reporter Edwin A Roberts, Jr.” Those sagacious words appeared way back in 1975; obviously, “Pulitzer Prize-winning reporters” were a totally different breed of animal than the miserable Progtoads we’re cursed with today. Just you wait, though, it gets even better from there.

2) In ancient Athens, a scaffold stood in the center of an amphitheater.

“Anyone proposing a new law, or a change in an old law, had to ascend that scaffold and stand beneath a dangling noose while he made his suggestions to the assembly. If his suggestion was approved and enacted into law, the innovator had to ascend that scaffold once again a year later. When the results of his suggestion had been to worsen instead of to improve conditions, he was hanged….”

            — Historian Otto Scott, “Why the Ancients Hanged Do-Gooders”, Conservative Digest, Dec. 1985, p. 93

If modern Americans had any sense and any understanding of individual rights against the police power of The State, they would make sure that Do-Gooders like Biden, Fauci, and CDC bureaucrats, among others, were escorted to an equivalent scaffold and noose. Because they are obviously above the law, such Do-Gooders do not stoop to anything so petty as proposing new laws. Instead, they issue edicts and lockdowns and mandates they fabricate out of the blue.

Then, when such Do-Gooders are made to stand beneath that noose, Americans should ask themselves whether the results of those edicts and lockdowns and mandates have made their lives better or worse than they were two years ago, including such impolite questions as how many tens of thousands of people are now dead or maimed for life as a result of those things, how many small businesses have been destroyed, and why anyone should thank those Do-Gooders for those things or for the obliteration of Americans’ rights, political liberty, freedom of commerce, and freedom of travel.

Funny, innit, how each successive problem besetting society today is reflexively assumed—in our stilted, forgetful vainglory—to be wholly without precedent, stupefyingly complex, and most likely insuperable without applying extravagant effort, painful sacrifice, and ruinous expenditure of wealth to it.

T’ain’t so, McGee. Turns out the Bible had it right: there really IS no new thing under the sun. Our woes belong not just to modernity, but to ages past also. Common societal problems, obstacles, and conundrums can be thought of as threads woven into the fabric of human civilization, ever since humans have HAD one. As the example of our Athenian forebears demonstrates the solutions and/or preventives, far from being impossibly complex or unworkable, come to seem like simplicity itself if you examine them thoughtfully.

Can anybody doubt the wisdom, the basic fairness, or the efficacy of the Athenian way of dealing with the related problems of corruption and how a keen sense of responsibility and probity might be nurtured in its lawmakers? Do we arrogantly flatter ourselves that the Athenian approach is a primitive, even barbaric one that the far more enlightened inheritors of Western Civilization have thankfully left behind? Suffused with pride, do we tell ourselves that—with all due respect (ahem!) to the wisdom (for their time, poor dears) of the Greeks—they would surely find our modern dilemnas to be well beyond their ability to comprehend, let alone cope with—overwhelming and terrifying for aboriginal throwbacks who walked around in public comically dressed in togas, sandals, and grape-leaf headbands of their own free will. Able as they may have been when dealing with the simpler challenges of a simpler time, the Athenians of antiquity would no doubt be awed into catatonia if brought face to face with even one of the more trivial of our Modern Problems™—as helpless as a toddler in a bear-baiting pit.

Only one slight problem with such modern egotism: The Athenian idea worked pretty well for them then, and it would work pretty well for us now. Lord knows what we’ve been doing ain’t. Plus, I dunno, but it seems pretty damned cheeky to me, this whole notion that the people who ran Western Civ into the ditch and totalled it would have the gall to spurn those who created it as inferior specimens—pretty hip for their time, maybe, but total cave-tards compared to us. If Modern Man was anything like as clever as he thinks he is, he’d be reading and re-reading every book he could get his hands on chronicling those who came before, treating every scrap of knowledge he could glean as the priceless treasure it is.

Instead of remaining steeped in the sour bouillabaise of historical illiteracy, unfounded assumptions, and smug banality, perhaps we’d be better served by boning up on how the world we live in came to be; learning the lessons history has to teach us; and coming up with ways those timeless lessons might be applied to help us out now, no? If all we got out of the effort was the heartwarming spectacle of Little Mengele Fraudci being dragged onto the hangman’s scaffold, pale and bugeyed with terror, pleading for a mercy that will not be forthcoming, it would be well worth a try. I’m betting we’d get a lot more than just that, though, beginning with the re-instilling of an appropriate reticence in the hearts and minds of those who fancy themselves our masters, then moving onwards and upwards from there.

2

Publick Notice

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I had forgotten it, but as it happens I have an old alternate image, part of a much older CF Xmas theme, which might make a worthy stand-in for my beloved Scrooge Picard—of whom I shall brook no evil spoken, ever—buried deep in the Trusty iMac’s file catacombs. This alternate is a real humdinger itself, featuring as it does my all-time favorite pinup hottie, Bettie Page—of whom I shall also brook no etc etc.

Upon stumbling across the Bettie header by a stroke of sheer good fortune, I piddled about some with the thing and found its dimensions to be all out of whack with what this current theme calls for, tragically enough. So I’ma do a little mild immersion into P-shop World and see if I can’t make things right. Then, if all goes well without undue hassle, maybe I’ll poke around a bit for a header-image-switching script that will work. Should that endeavor prove fruitful, well…we shall see what we shall see.

Why yes, I DO in fact just loooove tinkering with shit that I should probably leave the hell alone, always have. Why do you ask…?

1

Words mean things…until they don’t

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In order to subvert and then bring down any free society, first the Marxist counterrevolutionary must degrade the very language itself into a tangled, incomprehensible thicket of utter meaninglessness and confusion.

I have been writing a lot about the politically inspired perversion of language. The name “Orwell” crops up in any such discussion, as does the word “Newspeak,” that twisted mode of language that Orwell outlined in the appendix to Nineteen Eighty-Four. The goal of Newspeak, Orwell said, was to replace standard English with a sharply diminished patois whose linguistic poverty was its prime political advantage. By reducing the suppleness of language, the elites who controlled society hoped also to reduce dissent — not only the activity of dissent, but also the thoughts and emotions that guided it.

This has been a perennial dream of budding totalitarians, from the French Revolution to the varieties of communist tyranny. In our own society, the disease began, as do so many species of spiritual sickness, in the university, but it has metastasized into the body politic, infecting primary and secondary education, the media, commerce and even government. The current name of this nightmare is “wokeness,” but a swamp by any name smells as bad.

Hold the presses! The American Medical Association, together with the Association of American Medical Colleges, have just issued Advancing Health Equity: A Guide To Language, Narrative And Concepts. Is this the item of supreme self-infatuation that will begin the great awakening from wokeness? Maybe.

From first sentence to last, the aroma of scolding virtucratic entitlement is by turns noxiously cloying and comically rebarbative.

For the comedy, try on these opening words: “The field of equity, like all other scholarly domains…” You snorted, didn’t you? You know that “equity” — which is Newspeak for Marxoid attacks on private property and merit-based advancement — is not a “field,” much less a “scholarly field,” but a vapid epithet chosen because it conjures edifying moral associations.

I freely acknowledge that I’m just an elderly, out-of-it old geezer and all. Nonetheless, I seem to recall that back in the Cretaceous Period “equity” usually referred to the amount a homeowner has invested in his house, determined by the total of all mortgage payments made so far. His equity, if sizeable enough to qualify, could then be used as, say, a down payment to secure a second mortgage or other loan.

All of which has been redesignated by the Good People™ as nothing but racist, white supremacist Hate Speech by now, I’m sure. Maybe the aged and decrepit “equality” just wasn’t working well enough to be effective as a club against their hated enemies anymore, huh?

No sooner have we stumbled over the “field of equity” than we’re clobbered with a “Land and Labor Acknowledgement.” The Association of American Medical Colleges’ headquarters is “located in Washington, D.C., the traditional homelands of the Nacotchtank, Piscataway and Pamunkey people.” The headquarters of the AMA — the American Medical Association, for God’s sake — are “located in the Chicago area on taken ancestral lands of indigenous tribes, such as the Council of the Three Fires, composed of the Ojibwe, Odawa and Potawatomi Nations, as well as the Miami, Ho-Chunk, Menominee.”

It never stops. We must use capital-B “Black” when referring to black people but never capital-W “white.” “It is critical,” we are told, “to address all areas of marginalization and inequity due to sexism, class oppression, homophobia, xenophobia and ableism.” Whom have we left out?

At the center of this compact of rancid woke vocables are a number of tables listing deprecated words or locutions alongside their approved, “equity-centered” alternatives. Don’t say “illegal immigrant.” Say “undocumented immigrant,” because “illegal is a dehumanizing, derogatory term used to describe a person who resides in a country without proper documentation. No human being is illegal.” We can leave that ontological assertion to one side: plenty of human beings engage in illegal behavior, and that’s what we’re talking about here.

We’re not supposed to say “minority” anymore, but rather “historically marginalized or minoritized or BIPOC.” Don’t say “sex.” Say “sex assigned at birth.” Don’t say “slave.” Say “enslaved person.” Spartacus always did that, didn’t he? And I am sure the Islamic slavers in Africa are careful about their language right now, today.

Okay, I am so tuckered out and weary of all this happy horseshit that I’m willing to go all the way out to the very tip-end of the limb I’ve been forced onto at this point.

SO. You Leftard goosesteppers think you can tell ME what I’m allowed to say and not say, do you? Let’s just see how that works out for ya.

“Hate Speech” that I might or might not use, according strictly to my own whim, mood, or wish to piss all over some random Woke idiot in hopes that the inferno of apoplectic fury ignited in him will bring on a heart attack powerful enough to kill his stupid ass dead

Nigger, jigaboo, spearchucker, spook, burrhead, coon, bluegum, moon cricket • Jewboy, kike, yid, Bronx indian, Christ-killer • Limey, Pom, Frog, Hun, Jerry, Mick, bogtrotter, Dago, Guido, Wop • Spick, beaner, wetback, greaseball, taco bender • Raghead, sand nigger, camel jockey, Muzzrat • Chink, dink, zipperhead, slant, slope, gook • Dyke, bull-dagger, flatrocker, lesbo • Faggot, queer, rump ranger, ass pirate, turd burglar • Slut, tramp, roundheels, cockhound, THOT, cum dumpster • Honkey, cracker, white-ass, Casper, blue eyed devil, Yacoub

And if all that ain’t offensive enough to jack any shitlib’s blood pressure straight up to lethal levels and beyond, I got one more arrow in the quiver:

LET’S GO BRANDON!!!!

Now go ahead and try to tell me something else you think you’ll forbid me to do, Proggy shitstain.

Tooting his own horn

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An ill wind that blows nobody any good.

He is supposed to be committed to reducing emissions – but when President Joe Biden produced a little natural gas of his own at the COP26 summit, it was audible enough to make the Duchess of Cornwall blush.

An informed source has told The Mail on Sunday that Camilla was taken aback to hear Biden break wind as they made polite small talk at the global climate change gathering in Glasgow last week.

‘It was long and loud and impossible to ignore,’ the source said. ‘Camilla hasn’t stopped talking about it.’

This summer, Johnson praised Biden as being ‘a big breath of fresh air’ on climate change compared to his predecessor.

Appropriately, Biden has urged world leaders to cut methane gas emissions by 30 per cent by the end of the decade. Cows and other livestock contribute substantially to global methane levels.

The White House declined to comment last night.

Oh, I just bet they did. What’s there to say, after all? Here we have this decrepit old near-cadaver, fraudulently installed as “leader” of the “free” world, in so advanced a stage of decomposition and decay he’s utterly helpless to prevent himself from shitting all over the friggin’ Pope—staggering around all befuddled and confused, muttering incoherently, tripping all over every set of stairs he wanders within ten feet of—so who among us is gonna bother complaining about the occasional sounding of the ***”Presidential”*** butt trumpet?

I must admit, as entertaining as President Trump was, the sheer hilarity Flatulent Zombie Brandon brings to the table puts ’em all in the shade. Every successive self-beclownment makes it seem more and more as if God Himself was exacting Heavenly Justice from the raddled old crook for all those years of unpunished kiddie-diddling, graft, and sundry petty crime. In fact, if you listen hard enough you might just hear Him laughing right along with the rest of His Chilluns.

9

How invective is DONE

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As DuToit says, this here is the gold-plated, professional-grade stuff.

The Diclofenac pills do actually relieve the pain quite a bit but they, too, are a bit what we used to call spacey and I was up all night, between here and watching the telly. It was a wee small hours, musical interlude, on Channel Four, firstly a film of Liam Gallagher’s new ensemble, Beardy Eye, playing their new album in the Abbey Road studios. Liam is the truly neanderthal, younger brother from Oasis, a thick, grunting Manchester-Irish fuckpig, dumb as shit, you can hear the wind whistling between his ears, if he was any more stupid he’d have to be watered twice a week; makes Manchester United’s Wayne Potato look like a full Mensa meeting, does Liam. Nothing wrong with stupid. There’s lots of people like Liam, their oil just doesn’t reach the dipstick. He’s not as stupid as he looks, mind, because he looks like he was beaten with the Ugly stick and then ate it, ugly as fucking sin, is Liam Gallagher, ugly as a hatfull of arseholes; if your dog had a face like Liam’s, you’d shave its arse and teach it to walk backwards. Stupid, ugly and nasty, that’s Liam Gallagher, a truculent moron, charmless, graceless and entirely without discernible musical talent, a sign, in fact, of Ruin’s corrosion.

His new band, anyway, consists of four competent but unimaginative player-songwriters, and him. And the album’s a turgid lukewarm brew of reworked Oasis numbers which Liam’s brother Noel, every bit as ugly, every bit as unpleasant but a fraction less stupid would have rejected; the  band switch between a dazzling selection of Rickenbaker and Gretsch guitars -funny, isn’t it, how a fiddler will manage with one Stradivarius, Robert Johnson played only a two-dollar guitar, Rory Gallagher the same battered old Strat and yet the current lot switch from one expensive instrument to another between songs, maybe even during songs, the rock’n’roll of Consumerism – to produce the  same sounds, the same chords, the same figures over and over, to sing the same harmonies,  the same shouty, angry, miserable, hateful, retarded adolescent drivel, tripe, every fucking bar of it; Liam, stooped inside his ugliness, howling and frothing his whining, meaningless  doggerel; forty year old men, there oughta be a law against them doing this shit. Liam, rock hero caricature posturing, grunts at one point that this is whaditsallabout knoworramean, fucking keeping on playing and touring, selling the albums, to the kids, otherwise I’d end up working in fucking McDonalds, knoworramean; setting his sights way too high, there, overestimating his personal qualities, I mean, Billy Bragg might get a job in McD’s, on the mop bucket, Paul Weller, maybe, but they wouldn’t let Gallagher within a hundred yards.

Can’t say I know a whole heck of a lot about either Oasis or Liam Gallagher, and probably care even less. However, if I was him and somebody showed me this my career would be well and truly over before I finished reading the first paragraph. I mean, I’ve been on the hurty end of a negative review or three in my life; it smarts a little, then you shrug it off and get on with your day. But this? Jeez Loo-WEEZE, man!! No way could I ever walk out onto a stage again after a savaging that ferocious. Not even at gunpoint, I couldn’t.

2

My apologies

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It hit me ike a brick in the teeth on the way from work tonight just how badly I screwed the pooch with my “Brandon drops a deuce” title. What I should have gone with, what I fervently wish I had gone with, is this: Brandon drops an Il Dook-ay. Y’know, since the ***”Presidential”*** loss of bowel control took place in Italy and all.

Mea culpa, folks, mea maxima culpa. That is all. As you were.

3

Brandon drops a deuce

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It was bound to happen, and it was always gonna be gut-bustingly hilarious no matter what august personage ended up bearing witness to it.

Internet Dumps Its Best #PoopyPantsBiden Memes As Rumors Swirl Puppet President Sh** Self at Vatican

I never, ever dared to dream I’d live to see a headline as delightful as that, but incredibly, the subhed is better still.

Just a typical day for the Biden administration.

BWAAAAAHAHAHAHAOOHHHHHSHIT!! Ummm, uhhh……

Oh, dammit all. S’cuse me just a sec, folks. CLEANUP ON AISLE THREE, STAT!!!

Joe Biden made headlines in all the worst ways during his meeting with Pope Francis in Rome over the weekend.

After the Vatican cancelled a livestream meeting with Biden over a media dispute, rumors quickly began spreading online that the cancellation was due to Biden…*ahem*…pooping his pants in front of the Holy See.

Thereby providing me with all the excuse I’ll ever need to run this unforgettable scene from the classic film The Pope Of Greenwich Village.


Eric Roberts has never been better than he was in The Pope, nor will he ever be. Same goes for Mickey Rourke with great big bells on, and possibly even veteran character-actor colossi Burt Young and Jack Kehoe too, among several other notables in the cast. Pope was a quiet little gem that came and went quick without much fuss at the box office to remember it by, failing to even make back its production costs if I remember right. Be that as it may, I saw the flick in the theater way back when, was completely charmed by it, and have adored it ever since. Read the book too, more than once, which was a good bit darker and heavier than the movie was, particularly the ending.

But back to, umm, business, shall we say. Richly blessed as we already have been by this kingly gift of a news item, the boons and benisons don’t stop there, playgoers.

Those rumors soon evolved into dank memes, which were dumped all over social media.

A big ol’ butt-load of funnies follow, none of which you will want to miss. I’ll limit myself to just one embed, difficult as the choice was to make.

Looks as if ***”President”*** Brandon has cranked the stink pickle heard ’round the world, a real stinkburger of a faux pas to put the cap on a long and noteworthy career of blunders, gaffes, and general self-beclownment with one he’ll never, ever be able to live down. How perfect is it that, after interminable decades in desperate, obsessive pursuit of an office he always was manifestly inadequate to successfully occupy, the corrupt old bunco artist finally did somehow manage to hoodwink his way into it…only to find it almost certainly the most miserable, excruciating experience of his entire worthless life?

Think of it: to ascend to the Presidency in his dotage—AT LONG, LONG LAST!!!—via a process so thoroughly tainted and corrupt that not just half the country but half the entire WORLD is deeply suspicious of his regime; has absolutely no respect for him or his plainly-usurped mantle of authority; and scornfully revels in his every successive misstep, on the vanishingly few occasions when people bother to even pay attention at all.

Yep, I think it’s safe to say that being POTUS has NOT turned out like ***”President”*** Brandon hoped or imagined it might, he nor his grabby, grubby show-wife either one. Not at all. They had imagined a plush, highly-remunerative sinecure being obsequiously pampered in the White House, the envious gaze of one and all focused on them with awe and admiration for their nation’s esteemed Chief Executive and his lovely First Lady. Instead, the miserable wretches are caught in the iron clutches of living nightmare, a sweaty horror from which there is no awakening.

And now the raddled old cretin has gone and publicly shat himself, in close physical proximity to the fucking Pope, ferchrissakes. Which Pontiff quietly noted this absolute nadir of humiliation, this total loss of all control of one’s person—even as the thick, fetid stench wafted far enough to invade the Papal nostrils all too swiftly—and dropped the decrepit oaf from his busy schedule posthaste, without offering any official explanation. Not that anybody needed one, after the nasty truth had, umm, leaked.

Couldn’t happen to a nicer asshole, if you ask me.

8
3

T’is the season!

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Yeah, yeah, I know, not yet it ain’t. But really, now: breathes there a man with soul so thoroughly enGrinchinated as to be displeased with the seasonal return of CF’s long-time Christmas season mascot, dear old Scrooge Picard, if somewhat prematurely?

Well not me, bub. I don’t care what anybody says. I don’t care how flinty-hearted an old-school Trad-Christmas stick in the mud you might be. I look forward to trotting this entirely original and unique-to-CF makeover each and every year—no lie, I actually get excited like a little kid sneaking into the living room for an early peek at what Santa left under the tree for him well before the crack of Christmas dawn, another Yuletide tradition that I know a little something about myself—and will betcha-by-gosh-by-golly take all of Captain Scrooge I can possibly get.

And I’m in charge here, so there, blast it.

Hey, with all the disaster, trouble, and woe facing us this season and well into the foreseeable future (if any), I’d say we need Scrooge Picard, now more than ever. Enjoy, y’all.

6

Handsome is as handsome does

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Also, when he’s right, he’s right. Explanation to come, but first, the backstory.

On Wednesday, Fox News host Tucker Carlson released a preview for a trailer on a new series scheduled to debut next week, which tells the “true story” of the January 6th Capitol riot.

It appears to both condemn the left for framing the incident as terrorism and its participants as terrorists, while exploring the potential role of the FBI in staging a false flag.

First, the trailer for “Patriot Purge”:

Which I won’t embed, so as to get right on to the meat of this.

Unsurprisingly, the left has been absolutely triggered over Carlson’s upcoming exposé, and wants it stricken from existence before millions, perhaps tens-of-millions of Americans are presented with an alternative narrative that contains highly uncomfortable truths.

“There is no lie too big or conspiracy theory too dangerous for Tucker Carlson to propagate,” said top Russiagate / Ukrainegate peddler Rep. Adam Schiff (D-CA) in a statement to WaPo. “His latest salvo is nothing less than an invitation to violence. By airing it, Fox News demonstrates yet again a willingness to profit from tearing the country down.”

And on and on the shrieking shitlib hysteria-fest goes, of course and as usual. So brace yourself for the main reason I’m posting on this topic at all.

CF Lifers may recall an extended Gulf war-era dustup that raged ’round these parts with one Glenn Greenwald, who back in those days I took to sarcastically referring to as “Gleen Grenwald” for some long-forgotten reason. As I have ruefully acknowledged many times since those heady warblogging days of yore, my unqualified support for what I later came to derisively label the War On (Some) Terror was a mistake, owing to my being taken in completely by the Forever War scam.

Having waxed ever more appropriately and correctly cynical about FederalGovCo and all its works ever since, I’ve somewhat shamefacedly noticed a growing concurrence with Greenwald’s opinions of late; as I opened this post, when he’s right, he’s right. And he is, about more things than I would have imagined twenty years ago. My ego isn’t so smothering, nor my pride so stubborn, that I can’t give credit where it’s due. Although I’m sure we’ll never see eye to eye on everydamnedthing, nonetheless Glenn is due a great deal of credit, not least for this obversation:


Good stuff all right, and perfectly consistent with his beliefs then. But it’s the closer at the bottom of this next one that really tickled me good.


WHOA, that’s good squishy. I very much doubt Greenwald would remember me or our serial clashes way back when; he grazes in much more expansive fields nowadays, so to speak, and a lot of years have gone by. Be that as it may, I’ll say it anyhow: my humble thanks to you, Glenn, for giving me the heartiest laugh I’ve had all day.

(Via WRSA)

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Losing it

Posted on      by     

What. The. Actual. FUCK.

Biden Meets the Pope and Utters One of the Most Embarrassing Lines Ever Said by a President

So far, strictly dog bites man stuff. But then ***”President”*** Brandon sez, “Hold my beer.”

Now we know why the Pope canceled a live broadcast with Biden on Thursday. When Joe Biden met with the Pope, he uttered a line that is so awkward that it defies belief.

“You’re the famous African-American baseball player in America.” The fuller context can be watched below…

And then Gropey REALLY went off the rails.

Biden may have meant it as a joke or it was another slip of the tongue about the gift he handed him, but the Pope laughing shows this is what he said. After a 75 minute meeting. This is not the behavior of a serious person, let alone one of the two ‘most powerful Catholics’ in the world.

The remark happened after they exchanged gifts at their meeting on Thursday. Biden spoke to the pope about Satchel Paige, the trailblazing Black baseball pitcher, and made a joke about their ages, CNN reported.

“How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you were? You’re 65. I’m 60,” Biden said.

Annnnnd that’s a wrap, gang. Pudding cups and diaper changes all around!

As reported on Tuesday, the Pope suddenly canceled a live broadcast with the U.S. president without providing an explanation.

Did the Pope take one look at the beleaguered U.S. president and decide that it wasn’t worth the risk going live? Was there a personal disagreement? There were no reasons given.

At this point in Brandon’s™ rapidly-accelerating deterioration, is there really any need for one?

8

Obnoxious child playing in the street

Posted on      by     

Boy, talk about a problem that solves itself.

A climate activist in Vancouver who is part of the infamous group Extinction Rebellion has gone so far as to literally glue herself to a road.

This group is really going for it with their full-blown plan to take down the establishment and save the planet during its “October Rebellion,” which sounds promising but has done nothing but get 33 of them arrested (so far).

When one of their members named Tara glued herself to the road, they couldn’t have been more proud and ecstatic!

Yeh, I bet so. Just try and imagine how proud and ecstatic I’m gonna be when I binge-watch the upcoming YT vid of her stupid ass getting run over and squashed like a mosquito by a big fucking K-whopper T680 pulling doubles.

6

WAKE UP, BLACK AMERICA!

Posted on      by     

You folks know by now that I am resolutely immune to the bizarre ((((((JOOOOOOOOOOO!!!™)))))) obssessiveness currently fashionable in certain other quarters, for reasons I’ve already gone through here plenty enough times. Being more of a William of Occam devotee, I’ve never really had any truck with conspiracy theorizing of any flavor, which admittedly has become a much more difficult mindset to maintain the last two years. But once in a VERY great while, a conspiracy theory comes along that is so damned compelling, so brilliantly conceived, so clearly beyond argument that no sensible soul could possibly do anything other than embrace it without reservation.

This would be one of those.

San Francisco State University Prof Says Jewish Pot is Making Black Men Gay
“It is Jewish genius that has helped…to weaponize the weed.”

Wesley Muhammad believes that the U.S. government and the Jews are using marijuana to make black men gay. The “Pot Plot” is a popular theory in Muhammad’s Nation of Islam cult.

At the Saviours Day Convention in Chicago, an official Nation of Islam event, Wesley Muhammad claimed that, “It is Jewish genius that has helped… to weaponize the weed so that it may effeminize the black male of America. And be clear, it is Farrakhan and the Nation of Islam that is standing in between the total demasculinization of the black man in America.”

Some years back, Wesley Muhammad’s lecture, “How to Make a Homosexual: The Scientific Assault on Black America” was canceled at a Philly black beauty expo because of its hateful content. But what wasn’t good enough for the 23rd Annual International Locks Conference, a black natural hair expo, is unfortunately all too welcome at San Francisco State University.

It’s not too surprising that a black “wholistic” hair expo has higher standards than the most antisemitic university in America. Or that Muhammad fits in so well at SFSU.

“It is clear that the two most powerful lobbies in America – the Jewish and the Homosexual – are hellbent on the information in this lecture, “How To Make A Homosexualm (sic)” NEVER makes it to the public’s awareness,” Muhammad complained on Facebook.

San Francisco State University has however been happy to provide Muhammad with a platform despite no shortage of ethnically Jewish and gay people on the faculty and in the administration.

Wesley Muhammad’s bio at the taxpayer-funded university notes that he is a lecturer in the Africana Studies Department of SFSU’s College of Ethnic Studies. It mentions his publications in the Final Call newspaper of the Nation of Islam hate group, and his book, “Understanding the Assault on the Black Man, Black Manhood and Black Masculinity” which contains thoughtful chapters such as “Why Saggin is Faggin” and “Birth of the Black Man (God)”. 

This one scores straight A’s all across the board: for creativity; for originality; for weaving widely disparate threads into a wholly incoherent narrative fabric; for entertainment value; for sheer bugfuck lunacy, it tops every category. I must confess that I haven’t read all of it yet, mainly because I can only get another ‘graph or so deeper in before keeling over in helpless laughter and having to start all over again.

Damn pesky JOOOOOZ, getting all the brothas hung up on de weeeit ‘n’ fucking dey shit up ‘n’shit! Nomesay’n? Yup, it takes a nation of millions to hold ’em back. WE WUZ KANGS ‘N’SHIT!!!

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CF Glossary

ProPol: Professional Politician

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

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