Category: Pass The Popcorn!

Let it burn!

AWWWWW

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My heart, it bleeds for the poor dears.

Blue city ‘breaking point’: San Francisco wants Trump’s help on crime
Blue cities are cesspits of crime.

Blue politicians don’t want to do anything about it.

At least some blue-city citizens seem to disagree with this approach.

Will President Donald Trump capitalize on the split?

Salesforce CEO Marc Benioff last week called for Trump to send the National Guard to clean up San Francisco, where his company is based.

“We don’t have enough cops,” Benioff told The New York Times.

“So if they can be cops, I’m all for it.”

Democrats responded with fury.

“This is a slap in the face to San Francisco,” huffed Board of Supervisors member Matt Dorsey.

Well, maybe to its leadership, but San Franciscans themselves seem to feel a bit differently.

In June, a citywide survey found that 80% of residents support “federal help and resources to deport undocumented fentanyl dealers.”

“Even in a city renowned for its bleeding heart, there is a breaking point,” Liz Le wrote in The Voice of San Francisco — “a collective exasperation with those who weaponize our compassion to fuel a crisis.”

it is to laugh. No cops, no Guard, no soldiers, no financial assistance, no nothin’ for them…other than welkin-ringing gales of sardonic laughter from Red State Americans as they delight in the satisfying spectacle of smug, Smarterer-Than-You hard Left assclowns being forced at last to stew in their own rancid juices.

Suffer, bitches.

“Witch”

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Uh HUH. Just keep talking, Commie baglapper.

Machado Warns Against Socialism as Maduro Cries ‘Witch’ Over Her Nobel Peace Prize
For two days, the Venezuelan government didn’t acknowledge that opposition leader María Corina Machado won the Nobel Peace Price, though it’s understandable. Illegitimate narco-terrorist president Nicolás Maduro is losing his stronghold on the nation, and Machado is largely the reason for that. On Friday, the whole world learned who she is and what she’s fighting for, which amplified the country’s desire for freedom and democracy, and especially its desire to remove the tyrant who holds it all hostage.

Best Maduro can do is pretend her team is blowing up the not-in-service U.S. embassy in Caracas and that his security forces stopped them — just like he told his country to pretend it’s Christmas or like he tells Donald Trump that he pretends to stop the flow of drugs through the Western Hemisphere.

Just like he pretends to be the nation’s president when it should be Edmundo González, the man who actually won last year’s election.

But on Sunday, during an Indigenous Resistance Day rally, he finally spoke on Machado’s win heard around the world, calling her bruja demoniaca or a “demonic witch.”

He’s another garden-variety Socialist twit, so of course any sensible person would just naturally assume he has no clue what he’s talking about. And said sensible sort would be perfectly correct about that.

Yes, yes, I know, t’is the season and all that (ie, Halloween), but fi the cutie depicted above is what this Maduro dorksnort considers a “witch,” he needs to wipe the goo off his glasses. I’m sure there are plenty of other pics out there in which she looks older, more haggard, more generally just, y’know, YIKES! But going by the pic above and ndthing else, if that’s a witch, then somewhere along the line somebody fed me a whole pack of lies about witches.

Mega-dittos!

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Eeyore makes essentially the same point I tried to get across last night…except he makes a better, more concise, and far more cohesive job of it than I did, or frankly could.

A quick note about Pete Hegseth’s speech to the US military brass the other day.

It’s a sad and terrible sign that it takes 45 minutes to explain what is obviously true, and has been true for all of human history and across all cultures. The merit principle always leads to victory and best results. Secretary of War, Pete Hegseth had to reiterate that basic idea multiple times over 45 minutes. Not because he is inarticulate, but because the US, thanks to communist subversion for close to a hundred years, has inculcated the military and all US and Western institutions with the most failure prone ideas in order to create failure. It has gone so far, that men who simply say they are women can compete against women in sports and use that claim to indulge in sexual fantasies at the expense of unwilling women in bathrooms and changing rooms. Standards have been lowered, which was the real point of DEI, such that any meaningful effort to solve a problem would be increasingly difficult, and should a Western effort come up against a foreign one such as Russia or China where the most obvious truths are still in effect, the Western effort would lose. That is of course, unless Russia and China would allow our Beta males to compete with their women in physical competition. Then we would win. But somehow I can’t…

Preach it, brother, preach it.

Might it come to pass that, years from now, the historic Hegseth Address will be regarded by everyone possessed of a thimbleful of becoming humility, honorable intentions, and a kindly nature as a real turning point in an emergent American Renaissance? To rejigger a phrase originally coined by a certain extravagantly braggadocious and baselessly conceited ex-POTUS of indeterminate sexuality: is this the moment when the Red tide began to ebb, dangerously overheated Leftist tempers began to cool, and the bloody,  battered, and bruised American soul began to heal?

SO. To continue in like vein, then: could this be the moment when the Goosesteppin’ Left began to see, understand, and accept that Real Americans will never A) yield to despair; B) take counsel of their fears and declare themselves well and truly beaten; C) stack arms; and D) formally and fully concede defeat in the long war against neverendimg Progressivist predation, half-clever, poorly thought out, and blatantly hostile Leftiard skullduggery, and the ever-escalating demands spritzed wildly in all directions from the foam-flecked maws of insatiably greedy Lefty loons?

Does our rough-hewn, distinctly American resolve that yes, we will see it through to the very end, even if said end might well be a bitter one; a steely determination which so inspires and enheartens us that we can rise to any challenge, go through, over, or around any obstacle, face down any foe—all these excellent things, in concert with a Brobdingnagian strength of character, body, spirit, and will—does this impressive array of powerful weaponry both conceptual and physical of necessity mean that Leftists must now come up with brand-new strategies, tralblazing tactics, loftier ambitions, and fresh, innovative modes of thought if they seriously hope to retain even a smidge of real influence in American politics, a choice as to how, where, and with whom they shail live, and/or a consequential say in how this nation is to be governed?

i dont know how optimistic I’m prepared to be about the possibility of bringing about real, lasting, and positive change through the political/legislative/judicial/electoral process. But I do know this: I support Pete Hegseth a thousand and two percent. He’s The Man, far as I’m concerned, and whether or not TPTB will allow him to get much of anything done in the relatively short time he has to do it, not to mention the emeti0c cacophonyl of hard-core objection, opposition, and knee-jerk rejection to/of MAJ Hegseth’s words, ideas, goals, plans, even himself personally blariingnonstop from Mordor On The Potomac. Don’t care; let the Dark Lord bring on his mighty legions of trolls, winged Nazgul, and Orcs most foul. STILL don’t care, not the leastt little bit I don’t. Me, I’m behind SecWar Hegseth all the way, no matter what.

DON’T DARE TOUCH THAT DIAL! Stay tuned to this channel for the thrilling conclusion of tonight’s amazing tale of adventure, heroism, courage, and forbidden romance!

3

Blowing the fuck UP

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Kind of a hassle, embedding all these things is, but it simply MUST be done, it ain’t no way no how optional.

 


Last but definitely not least, we have this moving, beautiful remembrance.

Powerful is indeed the word. There just couldn’t possibly be a more fitting celebratory tribute than the traditional Maori posture-dance, a heartfelt gesture of love and respect offered by a clan of righteous warriors to honor their fallen brother.

MAN ALIVE! Anybody else think it got pretty dusty in here all of a sudden? *SNIFF*

Sorry, NO

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Ace really says it all in this top-shelf rip, and says it extremely well too.

No, Gleen, it’s not the same. We are not attacking the left for having differences of political opinion. We are not attacking them for having weird beliefs.

We are attacking them for celebrating assassination and murder. We are attacking them for calling for the next “pew pew” against the President Donald Trump.

If Trump goes down — we are at war.

You are right that most words are not violence. But some words are: Specifically those calling for someone to be killed, or praising an assassin for killing someone, with hopes that additional assassins will emerge.

That is what we are condemning. I do grant that some people are making the mistake of attempting to criminalize mere strong political invective — but what we’re really incensed by is that Taylor Lorenz continues to praise Luigi Mangione for his assassination and absolutely zero people in the supposedly “Respectable” media have even so much as chastised her for it.

Indeed, CNN had her on to giggle about it.

Either the left stops openly glorifying violence and calling for Trump or other Republicans to be “pew pewed” — their puerile, cutesy way of saying “shot” — or the right is going to start publishing our own Pew Pew Lists.

This is not a difference of political opinion. We on the right will not have a “debate” about whether leftwing assassins are allowed to murder us, our friends, or our leaders.

That will be a civil war situation.

It’s not up for debate. Leftwingers arguing that it is justified to murder me, my friends, and my family, and my president, are not offering a political position. They are openly conspiring to commit murder, and we don’t debate murderers. We arrest them and, if necessary, we kill them.

The left cannot put itself above the social compact. The bas(e)line, rock-bottom social compact is just “you and I are in the same tribe, the same nation, and I agree to not murder you if you agree (to) not murder me. And we also agree not to incite our more dangerous, mentally-unstable members to kill each other, either.”

If we do not have that, we do not have a country, and we are in (a) state of war. The rules of society do not apply, only the rules of war and violence do.

And there you have it. Nothing more to add from over here.

Update! In the course of making a last quick check to make sure some embarrassing goof or fother hadn’t escaped my notice when it hit me like a brick to the face: “…WILL BE a civil war situation?” Close, but close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades, as the ancient gag-line goes. It would be a better, more accurate mensuration of the current predicament to say that “This IS a civil war etc etc,” if you ask me.

Rich

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How could any true-blue American not absolutely love the guy?

Trump threatens thugs in violence-ridden Chicago with ‘Chipocalypse Now’ post
WASHINGTON — President Trump put thugs in crime-ridden Chicago on notice Saturday, promising to send in the newly-renamed Department of War in a threatening Truth Social post.

“Chicago (is) about to find out why it’s called the Department of WAR,” the president wrote, referencing his Friday executive order renaming the Department of Defense to its original name.

The post was accompanied by an AI picture of Trump seated with fire and helicopters with the Chicago skyline in the background, dressed as the character Robert Duvall played in the movie “Apocalypse Now.”

In the words of SCOTS frontman, lead guitarist, lead vocalist, and principal songwriter Rick Miller: it’s too much pork for just one fork.

Gentlemen, start your engines. Close and latch all exterior doors and hatches, secure any loose gear, and prepare to roll tanks; this squadron is gonna make a Thunder Run right through the middle of Chicago so wild, wooly, and straight-up ragin’ it’s gonna make the fabled one in Baghdad look like two toddlers playing Pit-A-Pat by comparison.

Whuuuu….???

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Okay, this one’s just too dang weird.

After Days of Claiming Trump was Dead, Leftists Get a Nasty Shock
President Donald Trump walked out of the White House on Saturday morning along with his granddaughter Kai and got into a vehicle to head for Sterling, Virginia, for a few rounds of golf. This would have been an utterly insignificant bit of information were it not for the fact that Trump hadn’t been seen in public since his cabinet meeting on Tuesday. While he was out of sight, an increasing number of leftists began crowing gleefully that the president must be dead. Their disappointment on Saturday morning must have been overpowering, as the hatred they showed for the president and his supporters was truly shocking in its intensity. The party of compassion? Hardly. There are no more hateful people than leftists.

Overexcited leftists began claiming that Trump was mortally ill several days ago, when a photo emerged of Trump with a large bruise on his right hand, similar to one that was spotted on Queen Elizabeth’s hand just days before she died. White House press secretary Karoline Leavitt explained Monday that the bruise was the result of Trump shaking hands with multiple people every day, combined with the effects of the aspirin he regularly takes.  

This wasn’t enough, however, for the far, far-left Huffington Post, which dismissed what Leavitt said as a “grandiose explanation” and opined, without evidence, that “the discoloration on the back of his left hand would seemingly be more difficult to explain away by handshake.” The hand-bruise controversy, however, was nothing compared to the left’s hysterical joy at not seeing Trump around for a few days. 

The New York Post reported Saturday that “online rumors of President Trump’s demise were greatly exaggerated — much to the dismay of creepy leftist critics.” The rumors started swirling “on Friday, when the White House released a blank schedule with no public events for the president during Labor Day weekend.” Old Joe Biden took almost four years off while he was pretending to be president and the media kept insisting that he was sharp as a tack as long as there weren’t any cameras around to capture the moment, but Trump takes a few days off, or at least out of sight, and the left goes nuts. (Yes, indeed, they were already nuts.)

I’m going to have to amend my earlier assessment—this ain’t just weird, it’s downright bizarre.

Coulterville

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Such a country in the city.

Coulterville is on Hwy 49 about an hour and 15 minutes to the east of my place in Riverbank City of Action.

I had a placer claim there on Maxwell Creek just off of Dogtown Road south of town back around 1985 or so. I paid 500 bucks for the claim and figured to do pretty good because at least once a year a recreational panner would find a decent nugget in Maxwell Creek right in the middle of town. The creek is a proven gold producer.

What I didn’t know was the creek that far up by my claim dried up during the summer and fall months, leaving me about 4 months out of the year with enough water to work the claim. The other 8 months it was infested with rattlesnakes and those vicious little brown Mexican scorpions.

It took me 2 fucking years to make my $500 back, and this is when gold was running about 300 bucks an ounce. Back then I figured I needed to make 10 bucks an hour to make it worth my while because that was my average wage at the ammo plant, but I kept putting time into that claim because I just knew in my heart I was going to strike it rich. Haha, fooled me. As soon as I recovered my investment, I pulled my claim markers down and abandoned the claim. It just wasn’t worth my time and effort.

About 10 or 15 years later I was in the area and stopped in at one of the small mining/tourist shops in town. I knew the owner fairly well because he also sold local history books, and he told me that some kid on his very first prospecting trip found a 7 ounce nugget not a hundred yards from my old claim a couple months prior. He even showed me a picture of the nugget to rub it in, the asshole.

A fascinating true-life story from Ken Layne, a fascinating dude who seems to have led a pretty darned fascinating life. There’s more yet, of which you should read the all.

Correct, on all counts

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Kevin Kinkead positively unloads on Springsteen and Born To Run. Not being a fan of either of those, I just about killed myself laughing at this masterpiece.

Happy 50th Anniversary to Bruce Springsteen’s “Born to Run,” One of the Worst Albums Ever Recorded
There is so much to hate about this album, it’s hard to know where to start. Thunder Road is the opener, and it begins with Bruce mumbling over over piano and harmonica for 90 seconds before someone mercifully hits a drum. Then there’s Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out, which shows some promise at times, but is really more of a soul song than a rock song. The album finally starts to display some balls with the underrated third track, Night, which at least has some tempo to it. It only lasts about three minutes though, then we’re slowing it down with Backstreets, featuring more piano wankery, but at least there’s a guitar solo at the 3:33 mark. Unfortunately it’s only 19 seconds long, but better than nothing. Then you’ve got the overrated title track, which builds but never really goes anywhere, bookending two side B filler tracks with Jungleland salvaging a D+ album grade.

The other thing is that Bruce can’t sing, which makes it tough to get into the music itself, which isn’t very good to begin with.

I think the thing that offends me in particular about Springsteen is that those of you who are 50+ got to experience the height of the 1970s music scene, when so many great bands were making so much great music. Even in 1975 alone, when Born to Run came out, Zeppelin released Physical Graffiti, Queen released A Night at the Opera, and Pink Floyd released Wish You Were Here. Aerosmith dropped Toys in the Attic and Black Sabbath was on to Sabotage. You had prime ZZ Top and Deep Purple and David Bowie and Fleetwood Mac and all of that, and your favorite artist was BRUCE? For who? For what! We millennials would have killed to be alive during that era. Imagine wasting it listening to The Boss mumble on about his friend being a good baseball player in high school. Listening to Bruce in the 1970s would have been like wasting the 90s listening to Dave Matthews Band (shout out to that one reader who has seen Dave 47 times in Camden).

If you’d like to hear more Bruce slander, I recommended our Pulitzer-winning column from a few years back, titled Someone has to Say it: Bruce Springsteen Totally Stinks.

Oh, you’d just better believe I’m a-gonna be checking that one out right away.

When you’d rather have your arm broken during a carjacking than see Cheetoh Hitler do something about crime

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Houston, she has a problem—a BIIIIIG problem. In fact, we all do…worse, when you get right down to it it’s the same damned problem.

An AWFL Made a Post About Trump’s Crime Crackdown, and It Broke the Internet
The most delusional, destructive demographic on the planet has struck again. No, I’m not talking about Islamic terrorists or Chinese communists. I’m talking about affluent, white, female liberals.

In the wake of President Donald Trump’s crime crackdown, which is reportedly heading to Chicago next, an absolute unit of an AWFL stepped forth to deliver a post that broke the internet. Her name is Jill Ciminillo, and she wants you to know that she was carjacked in Chicago. Not only that, but she had her arm broken by the criminals who violently attacked her. In fact, she posted pictures of her bruising to prove it, along with a smiling selfie of her cast.

Through all the pain and turmoil, she was not deterred. Her total hatred of Donald Trump shone through, as she announced she’d rather be carjacked and beaten than have the president help stop crime in her city. Jill Ciminillo, the alpha AWFL, had spoken, and the internet broke.

As ratios go, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen one as bad as this. She eventually deleted her post, but not before it garnered over 18,000 replies. By then, the damage was done, and the internet had officially been broken.

Bonch embeds the TiQ (Tweet in Question) which features Mz CrayCray McNutjob’s rant along with a still of her wrecked arm, and it’s a laff riot.

NUTS!

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Crazy lady illustrates just how very far we’ve fallen—as a nation; as Americans; as individuals; as civilized, rational, well-meaning human adults.

i’m telling ya, gang, you ain’t gonna believe this one.


This rage junkie’s unprovoked hissy fit deserves some kind of token of recognition—say, a trophy; a statuette along the lines of the Oscar, the Tony, or the Grammy; a colorful silk ribbon sizeable enough that it can be tied in back of the neck and draped over the collarbones and down to about mid-sternum, the way a proper necklace is usually worn; a gold medal to hang from said ribbon/necklace, a one-two knockout punch which results in a stylish accessory that, for all intents and purposes, might have been made to be shown off at private parties, film/art-show openings, next year’s Kentucky Derby, or some other such event; a generous cash prize; a professionally printed, suitable-for-framing certificate of merit presented personally by Hizzoner the Mayor’s very own hand; an honorary diploma from the nearest cow-college.

Then there’s the charity-fundraising dinner in a ritzy restaurant so jam-packed with minor to middling local celebutards that whenever at least two of said celebs stands close together and smiles for the cameras, the high-wattage light bouncing off the razzle-dazzle dentition on display produces a reflection so intensely retina-singing that any diner, restaurant employee, sidewalk-dwelling stewbum, or luckless looky-loo gawking through the establishment’s big front window who gets hit smack dab in the middle of his/her/its eyeball by the tooth polish-enhanced reflection will be blinded completely until mid-afternoon of the next day, a painful injury to delicate, highly sensitive tissue which hurts in a way reminiscent of the also-blinding eyeball burns incurred by looking directly at a welding torch’s brilliant light without welding goggles*.

There’s sure to be lots more bright ideas floating around out there regarding how best to recognize Miz Cray-Cray McNutcake’s and any subsequent amusing mental/emotional self-detonations, but the above ones should suffice to get the intellectual spark plugs firing, the creative juices flowing, and the internal kick-ball rolling in the right direction, I think.

One final thought: can you even begin to imagine what life must be like for this woman’s husband/boyfriend.significant other (if any)? Y’know, the poor soul who has to go to bed every night and wake up every morning beside this psychopath? Because I gotta say, I can’t. In fact, I really don’t want to. My life sucks bad enough as it is; I don’t like the idea of using my imagination to put my astral projection (a term I picked up from PG Wodehouse’s Laughing Gas) in that pyrsynzzn’s shoes for even one second, which pointless experience would only make things worse for myself than they already were. I ain’t nearly masochist enough to make myself suffer so gratuitously, and with any luck I never will be.

* Although I’ve had countless opportunities to score myself some welding-torch eyeball blisters, I never did; whenever I heard the snap, crackle, and pop seam-building soundtrack warning all shop-rats that Goose had one of our three (3) torches fired up and was starting another of his incredibly flawless welds, I made damned good and sure to keep my back turned to him. From what friends of mine who would know say, the blindness hits shortly after the damage has been done, while the godawful pain usually holds off until sometime next day. The only effective treatment for those blisters I know of is to cut up a raw potato into thin rounds and place a slice on the closed lids of the affected ocular orb, then let it/them sit there for hours and hours. Eventually, the pain goes away, the vision comes back, and the lesson has been learned, to be remembered forever.

It’s all but certain not to go that way, though, as you probably figured out by now. Thanks to inborn human blockheadedness, Nature’s eternal cycle begins anew: the lesson will be forgotten; the attention will stray; the primordial flesh-memory of what it felt like will fade. And before you know it, there you are: somebody is about to get hurt again.

Shop Life 101, that’s all, Shop Life 101.

By their friends shall ye know them

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Wait, say WHAT again now…?

Makeup boss Huda Kattan claims Israel was responsible for both world wars, 9/11 and October 7
She has since claimed to be the victim of a ‘smear’ campaign, saying: ‘In order to silence you speaking out, to silence me, they do what they always do, twist your words, label you an antisemite’

Iraqi-American makeup boss Huda Kattan has claimed that there is evidence that Israel was responsible for both world wars.

Kattan, founder of makeup brand Huda Beauty, has nearly two million followers on TikTok. In a video posted to her account last week, she also accused Israel of deliberately allowing the October 7 massacre to happen.

In the video, which she has since deleted, she spoke of “conspiracy theories” about the Jewish state and said that there is “a lot of evidence behind them”.

Such theories, she claimed, included those that Israel was “responsible for 9/11”, that it “allowed October 7 to happen” that it is is “hiding… paedophiles”. And she claimed that evidence exists that Israel was behind both world wars.

Uhhhn HUH. This SooperdoubledooperGENIUS™ seems to be completely unaware that, during both WW1 AND WW2, Israel didn’t actually even exist. But hey, just keep talking, by all means. You do you, girlfriend.

Kattan has subsequently posted another video defending her comments, saying: “A lot of people were taking it out of context and did not want that conversation happening.

“I never said anything about Jews, or even the Israeli people, so I chose to remove the video.

“It is no secret that I have been speaking out about Palestine for quite some time, and that happened as a result of me learning about the Palestinian cause.”

Sounds to me like you got a good deal left to learn yet about THAT particular “cause,” Sugartits.

(Via Ed Driscoll)

Eat ’em alive, Kid!

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Here’s hoping he reduces ‘em to penury so extreme the whole coven winds up sleeping under a Detriot bridge.

“YOU DEFAMED ME ON LIVE TV — NOW PAY THE PRICE!” — Kid Rock Drops $50 Million Legal Bomb on The View and Whoopi Goldberg After Explosive On-Air Ambush
Los Angeles, CA – November 3, 2025 – The airwaves of daytime television just got a whole lot more litigious. In a move that’s already igniting debates from Nashville honky-tonks to New York greenrooms, rock-rap firebrand Kid Rock—real name Robert James Ritchie—has unleashed a blistering $50 million defamation lawsuit against ABC’s flagship gabfest The View and its outspoken co-host Whoopi Goldberg. What began as a seemingly innocuous segment on cultural divides and free speech has erupted into what Ritchie’s attorneys are calling “a full-frontal assault on truth and decency,” broadcast live to an audience of millions.

This isn’t your garden-variety celebrity spat. It’s a seismic showdown between a self-made provocateur who’s sold over 35 million albums worldwide and a media juggernaut that’s thrived on hot takes for nearly three decades. At its core, the suit accuses Goldberg and her co-hosts of orchestrating a “vicious, calculated ambush” that smeared Ritchie’s reputation, tanked potential business deals, and inflicted “profound emotional distress.” As one legal eagle close to the case put it, “They didn’t just disagree—they drew blood on national TV. Now, they’re going to bleed in the courtroom.”

The fuse was lit during a taping of The View on October 28, 2025, just days after a raucous election cycle that saw Ritchie stumping hard for conservative causes in swing states like Michigan and Pennsylvania. Invited ostensibly to discuss his latest foray into politics—Ritchie had teased a potential 2026 gubernatorial run in Michigan—the segment quickly devolved into what Ritchie describes as a “gotcha” trap. Cameras rolled as Goldberg, flanked by co-hosts Joy Behar, Sunny Hostin, and Sara Haines, pivoted from light banter to pointed interrogations.

It started innocently enough. Ritchie, clad in his signature trucker hat and leather vest, leaned into the couch with his trademark swagger, cracking jokes about his “Sweet Southern Sugar” tour and reminiscing about his Detroit roots. “Y’all know I love this country,” he drawled, his voice a gravelly mix of Motown soul and rebel yell. “From the factories to the farms, we’re all in this together.” The audience chuckled, and even Behar cracked a smile at his quip about “building bridges instead of walls—unless it’s a mosh pit.”

But then Goldberg struck. Drawing on Ritchie’s vocal support for Second Amendment rights and his criticisms of “woke Hollywood,” she unleashed a barrage that left the studio audience—and Ritchie himself—reeling. “You parade around like some redneck savior,” Goldberg fired off, her tone sharp as a switchblade, “but let’s be real: your ‘American spirit’ is just code for hate-mongering and division. You’ve built a career on shock value, alienating half the country with your beer-soaked rants. Is this really leadership, or just another grift?”

The room froze. Ritchie, mid-sip of water, set his glass down with a thud that echoed through the microphones. Co-host Hostin piled on, nodding vigorously: “Exactly—your so-called patriotism ignores the marginalized voices you’ve trampled on for years.” Haines chimed in with a softer but no less cutting remark about Ritchie’s “outdated machismo,” while Behar let out a theatrical eye-roll that drew laughs from the crowd. What followed was a 10-minute evisceration, with the panel painting Ritchie as a “dangerous relic” whose influence “poisons the well of public discourse.” No punches pulled, no commercial breaks for mercy.

Ritchie sat there, jaw clenched, as the barbs flew. He attempted a few deflections—”Hey, Whoopi, I respect the hustle, but facts over feelings, right?”—but the hosts steamrolled ahead, framing his political activism as “reckless endangerment” to democracy. By the segment’s end, the applause was polite but tepid, and Ritchie exited stage left without his usual fist-pump to the crowd. Backstage, sources say he was “fuming,” confiding to his team, “That wasn’t an interview—that was an execution.”

Yep—and it was perfectly typical of what these shit-slurpers and all others of their loathsome ilk do every single day, under the guise of “fair” and “unbiased” “journalism.” Go get ’em, Kid, and don’t stop Rocking ’em till their livelihoods are lost, their shows are shut down, and their network has become a wholly-owned subsidiary of Kid Rock Inc.

Via Lakeside Joe, who quips: “This is gonna be fun to watch.”

Crooked cop brought down HARD

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Bondi has been a bit of a let-down so far, at least to me. Happily though, along with Our Tulsi, Kash Patel is really delivering the goods. To date I have yet to be disappointed by the way both of them interpret their job responsibilities. Nor can I find fault with their work ethic; their embrace of the underlying principles which define the uniquely American concept of public service; their obvious competence; their likewise obvious disinclination to pull their rhetorical punches; their eagerness to attack, attack, and attack again, keeping the skeer on his/our/America’s adversaries until the enemy’s fighting spirit, as well as his will to resist, have been well and truly crushed.

Kash Patel slams ‘corrupt’ sanctuary sheriff indicted for cannabis company extortion
Tompkins faces up to 20 years in prison on each count after allegedly exploiting dispensary partnership for personal gain

Boston’s sanctuary sheriff was arrested Friday on federal charges after allegedly leveraging his elected position to extort $50,000 from a cannabis executive who was seeking state approval to open a dispensary—a scheme FBI Director Kash Patel called a betrayal of public trust.

Suffolk County Sheriff Steven Tompkins, 67, who oversees more than 1,000 employees in the Boston-area, was handcuffed Friday morning in the Southern District of Florida after a federal grand jury indicted him on two counts of extortion under color of official right, according to a statement from the U.S. Attorney’s Office for the District of Massachusetts.

“When someone entrusted with enforcing the law is accused of breaking it for personal gain, it undermines the public’s trust in every honest officer who wears the badge,” Patel told Fox News Digital. “The FBI will pursue corruption at every level, because no one is above the law. The people of Suffolk County, and the country, deserve leaders who serve them, not themselves.”

Tompkins was appointed sheriff of the Suffolk County Sheriff’s Department (SCSD) in 2013, elected in a 2014 special election, and later re-elected to serve successive six-year terms. 

He made headlines in 2019 after booting Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) agents out of the county jail, signing an eviction notice that required hundreds of illegal immigrant detainees to be moved out within 60 days, according to a report from the Boston Herald.

This grifting, grafting shitlick looks about like you’d probably expect he would. Exhibit A for the prosecution:

Gee whiz, color me shocked…NOT. Color him, y’know, colored. Or blaque, on the dark(ie) side, melanin-enhanced, whatevs. Below the fold, I’ll tuck some highly offensive song lyrics from USDA certified odd duck Johnny Rebel, from a CD resto of an early/mid-60s single. The CD, titled For Segregationists Only, was given me by one of my closest NYC friends—an outside the lines catch so far underground nobody would suspect a hipster Manhattanite to know about it, much less own a copy himself.

If blue-collar racist slurs make your skin crawl, your gorge rise, and your blood boil, you’ll definitely want to shine this one on and act as if it doesn’t exist—which, in practical terms, for you it doesn’t. Trust me, we’ll all be better off for it. For less sensitive scoundrels, scalawags, and scapegraces who are made of sterner stuff, y’all reprobates will probably find this as rib-tickling as I do.

Continue reading “Crooked cop brought down HARD” →

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CF Glossary

ProPol: Professional Politician

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

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

Mordor On The Potomac: Washington, DC

The Enemy: shitlibs, Progtards, Leftards, Swamp critters, et al ad nauseum

Burn, Loot, Murder: what the misleading acronym BLM really stands for

pAntiFa: an alternative spelling of "fascist scum"

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