Can you say “weaponization of government,” boys and girls?

I knew you could.

EXCLUSIVE: FEMA Official Ordered Relief Workers To Skip Houses With Trump Signs
Whistleblower: ‘It’s almost unbelievable to think that somebody in the federal government would think that’s okay’

Pshaw. To YOU, maybe. Me, the only thing I find surprising is that you’re surprised—that ANYBODY would be.

A federal disaster relief official ordered workers to bypass the homes of Donald Trump’s supporters as they surveyed damage caused by Hurricane Milton in Florida, according to internal correspondence obtained by The Daily Wire and confirmed by multiple federal employees. 

A FEMA supervisor told workers in a message to “avoid homes advertising Trump” as they canvassed Lake Placid, Florida to identify residents who could qualify for federal aid, internal messages viewed by The Daily Wire reveal. The supervisor, Marn’i Washington, relayed this message both verbally and in a group chat used by the relief team, multiple government employees told The Daily Wire. 

The government employees told The Daily Wire that at least 20 homes with Trump signs or flags were skipped from the end of October and into November due to the guidance, meaning they were not given the opportunity to qualify for FEMA assistance. Images shared with The Daily Wire show that houses were skipped over by the workers, who wrote in the government system messages such as: “Trump sign no entry per leadership.”

It is unclear whether the same guidance was issued elsewhere in the country. The employees were part of a Department of Homeland Security surge capacity force team, meaning they volunteered from other DHS agencies to help an understaffed FEMA as it dealt with a second major hurricane in a span of just a few weeks.

The guidance came as the Biden administration was criticized over its sluggish response to Hurricane Helene in rural areas across the country. In Roan Mountain, Tennessee, for example, locals told The Daily Wire it took nearly two weeks for FEMA to show up. The town is located in Carter County, which voted 81% for Trump on Tuesday. 

HOME TRUTH: This is who they are, it’s what they do. Get your head around that, or get clobbered by it. Search for a better, more palatable option all you like, but there ain’t any.

Infuriating update! After reading Ace’s post on this same topic, it occurred to me that I really needed to include this bit here, if only in fairness to the fine folks at FEMA. See, it’s not as if the morally-handicapped degenerate responsible for this mind-blowing indecency wasn’t duly punished. Not a-tall. From the original article, which was updated after the above post with an official statement from FEMA. To wit:

After publication of this story, a FEMA spokesperson told The Daily Wire it was “deeply disturbed” and “horrified” by the employee’s actions, and that it has “taken extreme actions to correct this situation.”

“We are horrified that this took place and therefore have taken extreme actions to correct this situation and have ensured that the matter was addressed at all levels. Helping people is what we do best and our workforce across the agency will continue to serve survivors for as long as it takes.”

Bold mine. So what, you might wonder, does FEMA consider “extreme actions” in this instance of bureau-rat arrogance run completely amok, then? What does this spokesbeing mean by “addressed at all levels,” you ask? Was the vicious BiQ (Bitch in Question—M) reprimanded? Forced to undergo in-house “counseling?” Suspended without pay? Fired? Arrested, fined, imprisoned? Put to death? What, what, what, what?!?

Oh, just this.

The employees say that Washington has not been punished for the guidance, but has been shifted to another county in Florida.

WOW, they really brought the hammer down but good on this wayward but fundamentally decent, caring “public servant,” didn’t they? Poor dear, I do hope she’s okay after being punished so harshly for her “mistake.”

Fuck me runnin’. In the spleen, with a rubbing-alcohol soaked cattle prod set on Incinerate.

I repeat: You don’t hate these FederalGovCo shitbags NEARLY enough. You can’t, it’s unpossible.

Updated update! Ron the Great isn’t what you’d call entirely happy about this petty, vindictive bureau-shite.


“Show more” cirumvention.

At my direction, the Division of Emergency Management is launching an investigation into the federal government’s targeted discrimination of Floridians who support Donald Trump.

New leadership is on the way in DC, and I’m optimistic that these partisan bureaucrats will be fired.

Here’s hoping your optimism turns out to be justified, Gov; after so many years of watching them come to naught at the federal level, I can’t honestly say I have a hell of a lot of faith in government “investigations” anymore.

Frankly, it would suit me better if half the goddamned goobermint was summarily flogged, ridden on a rail, splashed about in the Potomac, dragged behind a pickup down Pennsylvania Ave, and flayed alive at high noon tomorrow on the Washington Mall. This twice-yearly whoopjamboreehoo—call it the People’s House Cleaning Carnival, say—would close out with an open-to-the-public pissing-upon of whatever is left of the miserable worms.

After the beatings are done and the meat wagons have been loaded and are headed on back to the county morgue, we’ll throw an open-bar BBQ blowout on the White House lawn (real Eastern NC BBQ, that would be: smoked oinker doused to taste with Texas Pete, not that ketchup-slathered brisket glop which lesser breeds without the Law embarrass themselves by calling “barbecue”—either Sun Drop or draft beer to wash it down; any fool who requests Pepsi, Mountain Dew (shudder), or some nasty energy drink that tastes worse than the sweat off a hippie’s unwashed scrotum-sac will receive one (1) complimentary throat punch for being a blaspheming dorksnort), a daylong par-TAY which will include many popular attractions such as:

  • Live music performed by bands who are actually, y’know, good
  • The Globe Of Death
  • A Coney Island-style freakshow tent
  • Another tent with smoking-hot strippers
  • Dunk-A-Senator booths; feature dunk-ee appearance by the Right Honorable (???) Lindsey Graham at five PM, don’t dare miss it
  • A big-ass dance floor
  • A fireworks show when darkness has fallen
  • Funnel cake
  • Tilt-A-Whirl!
  • Demolition Derby, open to all—run whatcha brung, first come, first served; helmets, goggles, gloves, and other safety equipment for drivers will NOT be provided; bring your own, or don’t—it’s your ass, pal, we can’t be assed about it one way or the other. What do we look like, anyhow, your fuckin’ mama or sumpin’?
  • All-female hot dog-fellating contest; age 18-32 ONLY, valid proof of age must be submitted to a registrar at the sign-up table. Nathan’s Bun-Length Franks are contest standard-issue; footlong dogs are also available by request; any contestant who so requests will have extra-credit points added to her score immediately, for showing proper competitive spirit, aspiration, will to win, and spunky, fun-loving attitude
    1. Approved participants must remove any/all shirts, brassieres, vests, two-piece swimsuit uppers, tube tops, robes, or other waist-up garment of any kind before her scheduled time-slot to mount the stage; clean, never-used cardboard containers with each individual contestant’s name written legibly in black Sharpie on the top will be arranged backstage for convenient storage of shucked clothing until such time as contestant is ready to cover up her fun-bags again
    2. BOTH nipples shall remain fully exposed and open to easy view throughout the event, even if a contestant has been defeated or disqualified and has left the stage. Rule of thumb: whenever the entrant is inside the roped-off contestants’ area, contest rules require her to let them puppies breathe
    3. Any premature, unsanctioned concealment of either both or one (1) of contestant’s nipples—even partially, even inadvertently, accidentally, or unwittingly—shall constitute sufficient grounds for disqualification if, and only if, the infraction was personally witnessed by a contest official, who, at his or her own discretion, may or may not report the infraction for further action; third-party verbal reports will be disregarded as unconfirmed
    4. Luscious, good-looking babes ONLY, please; plug-uglies, manatees, withered old hags, and scary, brick-faced bull daggers need NOT apply
    5. Bonus points will be awarded to minimally freckled, well-built, juggalicious redheads by our contest judges
    6. A car show: rat rods welcome; no trailer queens; vandalism and/or mechanical sabotage of foreign makes, irrespective of vintage and/or condition, will be not just tolerated but actively encouraged
    7. Absolutely NO (0) mimes, clowns, jugglers, cutesy arts ’n’ crafts peddlers, annoyingly persistent, piss-drunk-by-noon caricature artists, evangelical vegans, or unfunny standup comics allowed—we mean it, don’t even try

This hellacious hullaballoo is intended pour encourager les autres, as per usual. This incredible event, offering something for all ages, interests, backgrounds, and tastes, is shaping up to be one for the record books, folks, an entertainment extravaganza not to be missed. Get here anyway you must—fly, drive, spit on your ass and slide, crawl on your face over broken glass—just make sure you DO get here!

THERE. Now if that wildly eclectic bill of fare isn’t rambunctious enough to make DC’s last surviving bureau-rats take to their heels and flee to more congenial environs, then I’ll cheerfully eat my hat.

Moar Peanut fallout

And how.

The murder of Peanut the Squirrel and Fred the Raccoon by the goons of New York State is an important and revealing story, not least because those who enjoy ill-treating animals smoothly advance to ill-treating people*.

Oh, but you’re worried about rabies? New York State has an accelerating rate of tuberculosis because “open borders” means no one has to undergo the health tests that I, as a reasonably disease-free Canadian and legal immigrant, had to go through. And indeed who’s really rabid here? Peanut and Fred? Or the foaming-at-the-mouth bureaucrats? At least in the more general sense of “extremely violent” and “going to extreme lengths” (Webster’s).

What explains such a perverse government priority? From a commenter at Ann Althouse’s website:

The squirrel was seen at the Capitol on January 6th.

But I wonder too if the fate of Peanut and Fred is not a metaphor for – and indeed a fearful premonition of – what is about to engulf America on Tuesday and in the days that follow. As you can see in that video retweeted by Elon Musk, Peanut provided hours of harmless pleasure to his over half-a-million followers on InstaGram – all fun and games, until a thug state decided to take him out – and that was that.

It’s pitiful to see defendants of the squirrel-killers (whose names should be known) make the case that the state executions were “legal”. That is not the distinction that applies here. Me exactly thirteen years ago – November 2011:

In my book, I also quote the writer George Jonas, back when the Royal Canadian Mounted Police were revealed to be burning down the barns of Quebec separatists: With his characteristic insouciance, the Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau responded that, if people were so bothered by illegal barn-burning by the Mounties, perhaps he would make it legal. Jonas pointed out that burning barns isn’t wrong because it’s illegal, it’s illegal because it’s wrong. A society that no longer understands that distinction is in deep trouble.

In the world they’re building before your eyes, you’re the squirrel and they’re the “conservationists”. Vote accordingly.

*[See, for example, the British state, which has just transferred Tommy Robinson to a prison with a forty per cent Muslim population and in which (during a previous incarceration) the Islamic gangs that run the place have already beaten the crap out of him. Much of the UK, US, Canada, etc are institutionally evil and need to be put down the way New York put down Peanut.]

Exactly, precisely so.

SIDE NOTE: Not that it matters terribly in view of, well, everything, but if the NY Post has it right, Mark Logan spells/spelled it P’nut. I’ll probably weave drunkenly betwixt the two spellings, but you’ll know what I’m talking about anyway, I trust.

P’nut the Squirrel’s grieving owner says he was treated like a ‘terrorist’ in 5-hour raid by NY state
An upstate man whose beloved squirrel was cruelly killed by the state said he was treated like a “terrorist” when 10 government agents descended on his home during a five-hour raid. Mark Longo, whose pet P’nut captured the hearts of 3 million social media users, was stunned when a convoy of vehicles carrying officials from the state departments of Environmental Conservation and Health arrived at his Pine City home Wednesday.

Longo, 34, cared for “P’Nut” for more than seven years, rescuing him when his mother was hit by a car.

“We rehabbed him for eight months, we released him for a day and a half, but he ended up getting attacked. He never developed the instincts to survive outside,” Longo told The Post.

P’nut slept in his own room in their house in Pine City, just south of Elmira, NY.

Fred arrived four months ago, after being dropped off at their front door, and split time between an outdoor enclosure and a room in their residence.

P’nut and Fred were targeted, and not other animals living on the 350-acre property, because they lived indoors.

P’nut was a star on Instagram, Facebook, and TikTok. Even Elon Musk paid tribute to him on X today.

One post said, “President @realDonaldTrump will save the squirrels” and another lamented, “Government overreach kidnapped an orphan squirrel and executed him.”

“My phone is blowing up from people around the country saying how much they loved P’nut,” Longo said. “I have people who call me and cry more than I do.”

Crucial bits coming up, boldface mine.

The DEC said in a statement obtained by WETM that the raid was in response to complaints about Fred, the raccoon, but Longo claimed they used him as an excuse to get P’nut.

“The only time I ever talked to the DEC prior to this was when they got complaints from anonymous people on the internet for P’nut about five or six months ago and that was before Fred,” he said. “They used Fred as their go-to to get into my house.”

The DEC claimed P’nut bit one of its officials on the hand during the raid, but Longo said he did not witness that and that the officials’ hands were heavily protected.

“I watched everybody put gloves on before they entered my house. They had gloves that you get an eagle to land on,” he said.

Re: those last two boldfaced items, the DEC pussyfarts are quite obviously lying. Re: the first two, the cowardly anonymous complainants ought never to know another day’s peace for the rest of their worthless lives as far as I’m concerned. Which, to that end:

There appears to be some question as to whether this Keasler bint is actually one of the aforementioned complainants, although Twitchy questions the questioners:

UPDATE:

There are some people claiming it’s not her, although nuking all of her socials does not usually indicate innocence BUT we’re fair so we thought we’d share, just in case:

Follows, a vid from a friend of Keasler’s who makes a not entirely convincing case that she didn’t do it, but fair enough. This evil bitch, on the other hand, is incontrovertibly guilty as sin.

Gee, SHE doesn’t look like she has a lot to compensate for via killing people’s beloved pets, does she? Just what is it with these jackbooted thugs’ compulsion to kill pets, anyhow? I copped the above image from the reliably brilliant John Carter, Warlord of Barsoom, who has plenty to say in his own right about this abominable mess.

Squirrel!
Safety first means nothing is safe.

This isn’t the first time that the dead hand of the zombie state has murdered innocent animal friends for the crime of being cared for without a permit.

The obvious line to take on this is that the government can’t seem to prevent illegal migrants from pouring across our various borders (indeed, it subsidizes them), while it will go all hands on deck to assassinate an illegal squirrel and his raccoon friend, but this is just anarchotyranny for you. This story isn’t really about the prefix of that portmanteau. It’s about the suffix.

We live in a society in which a vengeful busybody on the other side of the country can anonymously harness the implacable machinery of the state to ruin the lives of people they’ve never met, who are generally powerless to do anything to obtain satisfaction from the faceless bullies hiding within the miasma of the permanent bureaucracy.

We live in this kind of society because we have allowed our natural liberties to be nibbled away at, a little bit here and a little bit there, until there is practically nothing left of them. Like Gulliver, we are held down by thousands of tiny threads, a net of laws and regulations, all of them enacted ‘for our safety’.

We have put Safety First, and if safety comes first, it necessarily follows that everything else comes after safety. There is no price too high for safety, and so we pay everything for it.

No one believes that Peanut’s death made the world any safer, including the anonymous stool pigeon that sicced the NYDEC on him, or the mouth-breathing toughs sent by the NYDEC.

Peanut’s death was about power. The state’s goons got to rip apart someone’s house and snuff out the lives of helpless cute animals, which made them feel powerful, and the snitch got to snicker from the sidelines, which made her feel powerful.

Safety is just the excuse. It is a very effective excuse, one that the managerial state and its cultists and clients in the general population adore, because it morally disarms all opposition to their tyranny. It gives them all the cover they need. “I’m doing this because I like ripping the wings off of butterflies” doesn’t have quite the same ring as “I’m doing this to keep you safe from the butterflies”. No one has ever been hurt by a butterfly, you say? Well, perhaps, but you never know. If it saves even one life!

This plague of safetyism infects everything.

Indeed it does. Trust me when I assure you that you really, really don’t want to miss a single word of Jeddak Carter’s typically dead-on essay, folks. As for that fat Karenness in the frumpy, frowsy neo-Gestapo threads pictured above, may her office phone be ringing off the fucking hook tomorrow morning with calls from righteously pissed-off people who are definitely NOT friends of either her or her loathsome Department.

One last important point, though: in the end, it isn’t the person in the office that’s the real problem here; t’is hers, t’was his, t’will soon be some other trash’s, to misquote the Bard. No, the real problem is the office itself, that it even exists in the first goddamned place. As long as it does, there will always be some vicious, heartless bureau-creep waiting with bated breath to fill the seat of Too Much Power and get busy making decent peoples’ lives miserable to the greatest extent they can contrive.

Update! Amy Curtis unloads in an extensive Twitter/X thread, and it’s a joy and a wonder to behold.

Here’s why Peanut and Fred have become such a rallying point for people:

We aren’t suddenly in love with a squirrel and a raccoon.

They represent the problems of a very broken, petty government.

That’s just for openers; this is another one of which you very much need to read the all. Curtis really says it all here, and says it extremely well, too. Elsewhere, Francis also nails it clean and tight.

Why did those arrogant bastards of the New York Department of Environmental Conservation seize and execute Peanut and his confrere, Fred the Raccoon? The rationalizations are plain: Mark Longo didn’t have a permit for them; there were allegations that Peanut and Fred were “unsafe;” there were anonymous complaints about “wildlife gone wild;” the state is responsible for “rabies control.” None of them hold water for five seconds. Here is the real reason:

BECAUSE THEY COULD.

They could do so without fear for their lives, their fortunes, their careers, or their ability to sleep at night. Doing anything justifiable — e.g., tracking down some actual abusers of animals and hauling them before a court – would have involved a lot more work, and possibly some personal danger. Hey, officer safety! That’s the mantra, don’t y’know. It’s not just cops who chant it to themselves and one another.

Mark Longo and Peanut were safe and easy targets. For one thing, Peanut had a social media presence. They knew where he lived. For another, Longo, a well-known animal-rescue activist, was highly unlikely to resist them with force. So they chose to go after the felonious squirrel rather than some more problematic target. Got to do something to justify their salaries and benefits, right?

They could. So they did.

It is to our everlasting shame and disgrace that this should be so, but yeppers, that’s about the size of it.

Updated update! Another longish Tweet, from which I’ll just go ahead and C&P the text entire and not bother embedding.

Let me tell you a short story. My wife had an uncle. “Had”, because he lived in a tony upscale suburban enclave, and he rescued wildlife. He didn’t have a sanctuary, or a farm. He just helped local animals in need as he came across them.

One of his neighbors complained repeatedly. So much so that they eventually said the right combination of words, and a SWAT team was dispatched to her uncle’s house in the wee hours.

They breached his house. They deployed tear gas.

Her uncle, completely confused and taken by surprise, grabbed his pistol, hid in his bedroom, and called 911.

My wife discovered the death of her uncle by coming across the story in the media, including the full 911 recording that contained the audio of the execution of her uncle by one of the SWAT members, while he cowered behind his bed, in his own bedroom, begging to anyone who would listen — on the phone or in the room — to be told what was going on.

All because he cared for injured animals, and because his leftist neighbors were…well, leftist neighbors.

So, you tell me.

The P’Nut saga is by no means a new one, alas for us all.

Update to the updated update! Having seen some moaning and groaning here and there about the folly of everyone getting all het up over a friggin’ tree rat, of all things, when there are so many way more important issues confronting us, I can only say that if you can’t see that the P’nut story is in fact EVERYTHING—the whole fucking magilla, the underlying cause of ALL our woes wrapped up in one ugly, too-representative package with a big ol’ bow on top—there’s probably no hope for you, I’m afraid.

As Fran suggests in the post excerpted above, one never knows which falling rock will be the one that kicks off the avalanche. If, against all odds, mass outrage over the undeserved fate of poor P’nut the squirrel turns out to be the impetus for a much-needed and long-overdue settling of accounts with the dimestore dictators who would be the lords and masters of us lesser mortals…well hey, fine by me, I’m good with it.

Throughout the ages Final Straws have come in assorted shapes and sizes; the trick has always been in knowing ‘em when ya sees ‘em, then disporting your Serf Class selves accordingly. To date, the historical record tells us that your average Mark 1-Mod-0 tinpot tyrant will either wittingly decide to ignore them or just miss them altogether each and every time, to his tremendous cost.

Updates, forsooth! The very latest, via WRSA.

Updated info on the wrongfully euthanized squirrel Peanut, & raccoon Fred…

Some ridiculous judge DID sign a warrant. For a squirrel? On a called -in “complaint” by this photog Monica Keasler to the DEC, for unknown reasons. The woman proceeded to brag on her now deleted FB account – she’s also ditched IG & Linked In because people found out who she is. 

Reviewing facts, it’s a pathetic case of government waste, overreach, & misuse of resources.

These people rescued & raised Peanut as an orphaned kit. They had him for 7 years. The man created an animal rescue sanctuary as a result, and had allll the app. process done, & it was SIGNED. The only thing waiting on approval was an enclosure. This animal was not capable of wild survival. They tried that initially, but Peanut came back with injuries. Some rescued wildlife is not releasable – this is exactly why rehab sanctuaries will keep select animals after rehab capability is maxed. 

A few potential reasons: 

Missing limbs
Birds with lack of flight
Loss of vision or hearing
Predators unable to hunt sufficiently 
Prey unable to evade predators 
Failure to thrive due to health deficits
Captivity-raised lack of survival instincts
Conditions requiring ongoing medication

This RAID involved making the victims sit outside their home for 5 hours while these maniacs tore up everything. They were denied the right to call legal counsel. Feds went thru closets, leaving a complete mess. They broke soap bottles in the bathroom. They took apart the man’s TOILET upon escorting him before he could use it because apparently there could be some important squirrel propaganda hidden in there (I’m assuming in the tank). 😒 Please make it make sense.

Oh, THAT ain’t gonna happen, Miz Tala. Plenty more left at the link, so yet again: Read. It. ALL.

Smash the State

Oh noes, looks like Trump has murdered poor Peanut the Squirrel! You may laugh, but t’ain’t funny, McGee: you know as well as I do that it will be tomorrow morning’s NYT headline, and the subject of the next Kumhaula for ***”pResident”*** ad.


Operative words in this next one: “We complied.” That was your mistake, bud. NEVER comply with the whims of dictators and tyrants.


Happily, the squirrels know the appropriate response to murderous oppression. If only we humans were as intelligent as our furry four-legged friends.

You go, gi…uhhh, squirrels! Via Ed, an explainer for why this seemingly insignificant story really does matter.

In the midst of the decisive election campaign of our lifetimes, why talk about Peanut the Squirrel? Aren’t there more important issues like the polls, turnout, shenanigans, and all the day’s news?

Actually, the Peanut saga is the WHOLE story, in a nutshell.

Yeah, yeah, sorry. Onwards.

Yes, all those things matter. But the story of Peanut matters because it is a microcosm of what we are facing. A nameless, faceless, and merciless bureaucracy with no sense of proportion or empathy can, at a whim, upend people’s lives over what amounts to nothing. It can seize a beloved family pet, the mascot of an organization that does enormous good, just because some nanny-stater decides they don’t approve.

The streets of New York City are filled with criminals and migrants, billions are spent on hotel rooms for illegals, drugs are ravaging our communities, and lawlessness is spreading in ways that degrade our civilization. Those are big problems that are difficult to deal with, so the government turns its Sauron eye to Peanut because it can overwhelm the little guy with no problem.

Improving people’s lives is hard. Killing a squirrel is easy.

And far more satisfying to the kind of miserable parasite you find burrowed deeply into all goobermint bureaucracies, too.

We all get overwhelmed by the enormous challenges we face, but we can all understand the story of a squirrel. In our guts, we know what happened is wrong–what we need to understand is that this is how government works as often as not. The ostensible reason behind the raid and 5-hour squirrel (and raccoon) hunt in a man’s home is that Peanut could have rabies, and rabies control is a government function.

Oh, absolutely! Says so right there in the, um, Constitution. Not that anybody cares about that old thing anymore. Bottom line? Just this.

Fighting rabies in the wild is hard, and it is MUCH easier to euthanize a squirrel that lives indoors and could not possibly have rabies. Eight government employees can waste a day ransacking a man’s house, kill a squirrel, and call it a day without having to do anything that actually makes the public safer. Win!

PREACH it, bruh!


The last word is DOA’s.

“Whatcha gonna do with your head in a noose,” indeed. Although Joey Shithead’s response is “I DON’T KNOOOOW,” I most certainly do: nothing, that’s what.

Hate them enough yet?

Nope, I solemnly promise you that you do NOT.


Via Ace, who has all too much more, just downright depressing amounts of it.

COMING SOON: Open season on “liberals,” no bag limit

Wow. Just…WOW.


More from the embedded link:

A digitally altered image of Kamala Harris dressed as a McDonald’s employee has gone viral on social media, sparking debate over her recent claim that she once worked at a McDonald’s in Alameda, California. The photo, widely shared by some liberal users as supposed “proof” of Harris’s claim, is actually a modified image of a white Canadian woman who passed away from cancer in 2007. 

The original photo is of Suzanne Bernier, who passed away from cancer in 2007, according to an archived webpage about her life.

These so-called “people” seem absolutely, positively determined to make it impossible not to look forward eagerly to the day they’re finally being hunted down and shot for sport, don’t they? If they go on like this, eventually banks and truck stops will be offering a free toaster oven or fancy embroidered ball cap for every shitlib pelt brought in.

Terrorists to Israel: “Let’s stop fighting, we’re losing”

Finish ‘em off, Bibi.

Hezbollah Wants a Ceasefire Now. Here’s Why Israel Shouldn’t Give Them One.
Ceasefire now? As much as Kamala Harris wants one and would capitalize upon one if it did materialize, the answer must be a firm no.

After exploding pagers and a series of carefully targeted Israeli airstrikes have completely decimated Hezbollah’s senior leadership, the jihad terror organization now wants a ceasefire with Israel. This will come as music to the ears of the Biden-Harris regime, which would like nothing better than an October peace agreement between Israel and one of the major players that are arrayed against it.

The Harris campaign could wave this agreement in the air every time someone pointed out that the world during the Trump years was a much more peaceful place than it is now, and use it going into the election as evidence of Kamala Harris’ superior negotiating skills. But for a number of important reasons, Israel should resist all pressure from Washington.

So far, the pressure for the moment is coming not from Washington, but from Hezbollah itself. CNN reported Tuesday that Hezbollah Deputy Secretary General Naim Qassem, who is the highest-ranking official in the organization at the moment (after Israel took out longtime Hezbollah leader Hassan Nasrallah and several of his designated or potential successors) said, “We support the political efforts led by (Parliament Speaker Nabih) Berri under the banner of achieving a ceasefire. Once the ceasefire is firmly established and diplomacy can reach it, all other details will be discussed and decisions will be made collaboratively.”

Ceasefire! Diplomacy! Qassem knows how to push all the right buttons to get the U.S. State Department, the European Union, and the United Nations on his side, and even to shower billions upon his straitened organization. Kamala Harris has already sent $157 million to Lebanon, which means to Hezbollah.

Nevertheless, Antony Blinken and his henchmen in Foggy Bottom are likely to take Qassem’s endorsement of Berri’s ceasefire proposal with the utmost seriousness, and start badgering the Israelis to accept it. If they prevail upon them to do so, they’ll only be enabling Hezbollah to survive and get back on its feet after the heavy losses it has recently suffered. This is certain from what Islamic law teaches about when treaties, including temporary truces, should be concluded with a non-Muslim foe.

Yep, those “temporary truces” being known by a specific name in Muzzrat circles: hudna, that would be, a strictly temporary cease-fire intended to allow an exhausted, nearly defeated Mooselimb antagonist to re-equip, refit, and reinvigorate for the next round of jihadi conquest. Thus:

The concept of hudna deserves a close look: It is not a Qur’anic term, nor is it the only Arabic word for a cease-fire or truce; others include: muhadana, muwada’a, muhla, musalaha, musalama, mutaraka, and sulh. But hudna is the most prominent. It is the first word used in Muslim history to mean cease-fire, specifically in the context of the seventh century Truce or Treaty of al-Hudaybiyya, often termed the Sulh al-Hudaybiyya (peace of al-Hudaybiyya).

Named after a village outside Mecca, the truce came six years after Muhammad and his followers abandoned Mecca for Yathrib, today’s Medina. This move, known as the hijra (emigration) is of enormous significance for the classical understanding of jihad, inasmuch as it sets a pattern of retreat followed by regrouping and rearming, which permits an attack on the territory previously left behind.

Spencer, for his part, understands what’s actually going on here perfectly well.

Blinken and his colleagues are dogmatically committed to the proposition that Islam has nothing whatsoever to do with the conflict between Israel and its jihadi enemies and can illuminate nothing about that conflict, but the facts are otherwise.

Islamic law does not envision a state of permanent peace between Muslims and non-Muslims. Instead, the Qur’an instructs Muslims to “fight them until persecution is no more and religion is all for Allah” (8:39). If Muslims must continue fighting non-Muslims until “religion is all for Allah,” that means that there is no place in Islam for the “coexistence” that the left professes to value so highly. There can be no coexistence, but only perpetual warfare, although there can be sporadic periods in which a temporary peace prevails.

Islamic law is very clear about when these pauses in the war can go into effect. It only allows for a truce if the Muslims expect their foes to convert to Islam, or if the Muslims are weak and need to gather strength to fight later more effectively: “If Muslims are weak, a truce may be made for ten years if necessary, for the Prophet (Allah bless him and give him peace) made a truce with the Quraysh for that long, as is related by Abu Dawud… Interests that justify making a truce are such things as Muslim weakness because of lack of numbers or materiel, or the hope of an enemy becoming Muslim…” (Reliance of the Traveller, o9.16). 

This idea is founded on the Qur’an: “So do not falter and cry out for peace when you have the upper hand…” (47:35).

Hezbollah is crying out for peace because it does not have the upper hand. It is calling for a ceasefire because it is weak, and needs time to gather its strength. This would, therefore, be the worst time to conclude a ceasefire. Heedless of all this, however, and hating Israel as they do, Biden, Harris, and Blinken will keep pressuring Israel to accept a ceasefire. Netanyahu should stand strong in rejecting this pressure.

And there you have it. Once again, I must repeat: Kill. Them. ALL. Contra the constant teary squeals of “genocide” from idiotic Western shitlibs and, embarrassingly enough, Crackpot Rightists in this context (neither Hezbollah, nor Hamas, nor Paleosimian, nor even Muslim itself constitutes a race, therefore definitionally rendering the claim of “genocide” entirely null and void), there really is no other long-term solution for Western Civ than just this.

Update! Francis asks the pertinent question.

I strive to use words according to their exact meanings. The word existential has such a meaning: “of, relating to, or affirming existence.” Thus, an existential enemy is one whose aim is to end your existence. There can be no greater threat than such an enemy; he poses an existential threat.

Is there a point – a defensible rationale – to negotiating with such an enemy?

A: No. No, there most certainly is not. In such a circumstance, you have but three (3) options: Kill him, surrender, or die your own self, the last two of which amount to the same thing when all’s said and done. Period fucking dot, all there is to it, end of story.

It’s not just worst than you thought…

It’s worse than you can imagine.

Large area’s of western NC are destroyed. The roads are GONE. The power is off, for months at best, years more likely. Many of the power substations were destroyed and we have no capacity to replace them.

The destruction is WORSE than that caused by war conditions. People are completely cut off. There is no food and if there were they cannot get to it.

Entire mountain towns are DESTROYED. The lively-hood of the people in the towns are destroyed. There is nothing left.

This happens on rare occasion but always in a small area, one town or two has devastation. This is across the entire western part of the state.

This is without question the worst disaster in American history. Did you know that?

Who are our friends and who is our enemy? I have absolute contempt for our state and federal government that does nothing. Every resource at their disposal should have been mobilized, and CRICKETS.

It’s clear who the enemy is.

I have a customer in the area. I’ve had one text from one person, “It’s really bad”. That’s it.

Spruce Pine, Little Switzerland, Burnsville – these are all communities at or near the top of the mountains, imagine that if they are destroyed that what is below is just hell –

ONE MANS JOURNEY

SCREAM LOUDLY TO ANYONE THAT CAN HEAR – DEMAND THE GOVERNMENT DEPLOY THEIR ASSETS TO HELP THE AMERICANS IN DIRE NEED

UPDATE:
I’m not the only one that notes the obvious:

…I can confirm that President Joe Biden and Vice President Kamala Harris’ response to this round of mass suffering has been orders of magnitude worse than federal actions taken after Katrina.

UPDATE Deux:
“Biden, likewise, could have mobilized the 101st and 82nd Airborne Divisions the morning after Helene to deliver food, medical supplies, and evacuate stranded citizens by helicopter.”
And the Democrats are, by calculation, waging war against the dying citizens of western North Carolina.

UPDATE Trois:
I am entirely convinced that we just witnessed the greatest natural disaster in modern U.S. history…

There actually would have been backup transformers available to fix all these broken substations had President Biden not just sent off the nation’s strategic stockpile of them to Ukraine so Volodymyr Zelensky can use them to advance his interests.

UPDATE Quatre:

I drove from outside Charlotte NC down Interstate 85 to near Georgia Monday morning. I am happy to report that help is arriving in the form of tree company trucks and power company service trucks. I passed at least one hundred of them headed south* in a 2.5 hour drive. Shout out to the states of Indiana, Ohio, and Michigan as there were quite a few trucks with tags from those area’s. There is a shortage of hotel rooms in the Greenville and Anderson (SC) area’s due to the out of town help that has arrived. These are some seriously capable folks.

*I left the house at 6:30am, so the number arriving through the day is probably in the hundreds, maybe more. And yes literally, I passed a truck nearly every minute of the trip. It was crowded.

They’re from the government, and they’re NOT here to help

Tonight’s Eyrie post is on the thuggish FederalGovCo rakehells’ ham-handed interference with well-organized and effective private rescue efforts in and around Lake Lure and Asheville, specifically centering on Elon Musk’s (!) repeated run-ins with the infamous FEMA. It’s blindingly obvious to all but the most wllfully purblind fief-guarding tyranno-Fed that those poor people need every last bit of help they can possibly get, and aren’t overly concerned about whence it originated. Not that the Fedgoons give a tinker’s damn, of course.

That said, our friend of many years standing and fellow Carolinian Herschel Smith (maybe I’ve mentioned it here before, but his lovely daughter [or maybe niece? dunno, I was zonked out on pain meds at the time] kindly paid me a seriously morale-boosting visit at the thoughtful behest of her pop when I was laid up in rehab center durance vile not long after I’d become the World’s Greatest One-Legged Blogger™) has plenty to say on that score his own self. Read of it, for It. Is. Good.

The Hurricane Helene Hall of Shame
Following up on my post How Helene Affected The People Of Appalachia, there are a number of shameful things that we’re learning about the official response.

Let’s begin with this terrible report of a man who used his own helicopter to rescue stranded people above Asheville, N.C., and who was told if he continued, he would be placed under arrest.

The responsible officials are Dustin Waycaster – Fire Chief, and Chris Melton – Asst. Fire Chief. Congratulations men, you’ve made the hall of shame. It would take an entire article to examine the moral implications of preventing the rescue of men and women in danger, but we’ll leave it at that and cover it later. Suffice it to say that it sounds like you were discomfited by someone showing you up and “interfering with your operation.” Although it’s likely a manifest lie to say that anyone was really interfering with anything.

An eminently safe bet, I should think. Lots, lots more where that came from, of which you absolutely must read the all. Those taking nitro-glycerin pills for heart issues will definitely want to have their ‘scrip close to hand, and peruse Herschel’s piece in a cool, calm, and collected state of mind, preferably while seated. You won’t be any of those things for long, trust me on that one.

The HHHoS is populating itself all too quickly to suit me.

Update! Is it all about the lithium, perchance?


Several Lake Lure denizens calling in to the Rise Guys program yesterday and today said that great swathes of land on which private homes and/or neighborhoods formerly stood have been preemptively declared FedGovCo property. Lord knows the batteries in all those useless, dangerous EVs Harris/Biden & Pals are determined to cram down our throats are gonna require lithium aplenty. SO, then: fact, or merely the sort of paranoiac rumor that tends to fly around in extreme circumstances such as this? Is it really a case of Federal ad lib opportunism run amok, in essence a spur of the moment land-and-lithium grab?

Given what we’ve learned over the past several years regarding the far-less-than-benevolent nature of Amerika v2.0’s central Leviathan, it doesn’t take a cynic to think the whole thing a mite suspicious, at the very least.

Updated update! Re: those aforementioned chopper jocks, it bears mentioning that it’s not as if they were all just flying around willy-nilly, hither and yon, endangering themselves, their rescuees, other SAR personnel, and unwary shell-shocked survivors with their ill-considered blundering about. Oh HELL no!

These are fucking experienced helicopter pilots we’re talking about here, people—trained, capable, safety-conscious, procedure-oriented, highly intelligent. They are assuredly NOT the kind of vacuous ninnyhammers constantly tripping over their own dicks and guffawing a la Disney’s Goofy at their own gormless stupidity; quite the contrary, these are qualified civil aviators who’d never even DREAM of doing anything at all without a plan.

From what the pilot I heard on the radio yesterday morning said (and what I saw later in photos), the ‘copters were all arrayed in a neat line on the tarmac of a nearby airfield; every pilot was in close, constant communication with the others as well as with ground control; all had properly detailed flight plans filed with ATC before a single engine spooled up.

FEMA has attempted to portray these men as chuckleheads, amateurs, and gloryhounds—which, being arrogant, officious Überstadt pricks, is how THEY see them, certainly. But as anyone who has ever personally known either a fixed- or rotary-wing aircraft operator will attest, it just ain’t so. Turns out the bureau-rats are every bit as full of shit as they always are, have been, and forever will be. Imagine my surprise.

Update to the updated update! My brother-from-another-mother BCE reports on what I consider a most felicitous development. To wit:


Well. Well, well, well, well, well, well, WELL. Fancy that. Billy follows up:

And the reason for it?

No hard evidence but the general story is Mr. Director from Virginia got shitty with a woman and her three lil kids and wouldn’t let them get any water/food or supplies. She melted down and this asshole was all smug about it…

The local men didn’t like that much.

“That’s an asswhuppin’!!!”

Personally, I’d go for hanging, but I’ll get into that more in a few…

Me and you both, my friend, me and you both. Additionally, and perhaps mo’ betta still, we have this.


Damned skippy. Nice to know that, even in times as parlous as these, enough is still enough, by God. Back over to Big Country for a ding-dong doozy of a denouement.

And then, the very fact that low level midwit fucktards have been interfering in the “real work” that ‘non-sanctioned’ groups have been doing, and doing fucking well infuriates me at a core level that I forgot I had.

My rage as of late is so bad that I have recently thought that the best way -someone- could contribute is to go down there with a good scoped hunting rifle in the ubiquitous 30-06 caliber, and start ‘working their way through’ the assholes in the FEMA vests to start with.

Case in Point:

That soon-to-be-X Fire Chief, Dustin Waycaster of Lake Lure who demanded that the free-flying Rescue-Ranger Chopper Jockey cease and desist DESPITE his overwhelming success rate in his previous rescues and threatened to arrest and impound his bird?

My question:
Why is he (the ‘chief’) still alive?
Why is his dwelling still standing?
Why is his family still alive?

Hard times call for DRASTIC Measures. I’m not, per se, calling for any violence against this miserable toolbag fucktard nor his domicile or fam…. HOWEVER, I AM all about questioning his current apparent good fortune in these trying circumstances… That he, who, in truth as the “Lead Asshole in “Incompetence on Parade”? is still drawing O2???…. and that HIS domicile is untouched as is his job???

Took the words right out of my mouth, B.

As is entirely apparent, the swaggering Überstadt douchenozzles have become all too accustomed to being kowtowed to, groveled before, and unquestioningly obeyed by the lowly Serf Class oafs they lord it over so contemptuously. Might it be that, in such extraordinarily grim circumstances, a righteous if long overdue reckoning is now at hand? Might it be that, against all odds and expectations, our would-be Masters could now find themselves set upon by cruelly savaged Carolinians who no longer have anything left to lose? Might this be the first faint rays of sunlight which herald the dawning of a glorious new American day? Might the appropriate relationship between Public Servant and Citizen at long last be restored? Might horrific catastrophe, destruction, and human suffering yet turn out to be our salvation?

We shall see.

Wild-eyed insurrectionist revolutionary gets hers

Just deserts.

Peaceful ‘J6 Granny’ Gets the Federal Shaft in Sentencing

Because OF COURSE she did, man!

“Every decent man is ashamed of the government he lives under.”
– H. L. Mencken

I covered this over at PJ Media earlier today.

As punishment for taking a 27-minute nonviolent tour of the Capitol on January 6th, 2021, after being granted permission to enter by cops on site, grandmother and friend of Armageddon Prose Karen Jones has, over three years after the alleged insurrection and many thousands of retirement dollars squandered on defense attorneys, been sentenced to a three-year probation/house arrest regime — for a single misdemeanor charge of “Entering or Remaining in a Restricted Building or Grounds.”

The court acknowledged her lack of criminal history, the absence of evidence that she committed any violence at the Capitol, and that she did not enter any private areas of the Capitol.

Nevertheless, the judge strapped her with an ankle monitor, charged her $3,000, and threw her on probation for three years with drug tests and home visits from the officer whenever it so pleases the state.

“I regret not being able to participate in this election cycle. It seems un-American to use the court system to silence political speech,” Karen told me.

Is this case, and its outcome, political(ly) motivated?

In light of the curious case of likely Fed, Ray Epps — who showed up in tactical gear and actively promoted in multiple instances, on camera, violent insurrection and got a year of probation and no travel restrictions — it’s hard to argue it’s not.

“Hard”? It’s goddamned impossible, actually. On the other hand, I feel a helluva lot safer and will sleep much easier at night knowing this dangerous, violent Grammaniac is being punished for her outrageous crimes against the Überstadt.

If I may pretend to be serious for a moment here: next time they decide to visit Mordor On The Potomac to cast down the Barad-dûr, Our Side definitely needs to remember to bring the guns along. I dunno, mebbe tie a string around their fingers or something…?

SIDE NOTE: Gonna have to pinch that excellent quote from curmudgeon cum laude Mencken for one of my patented email signatures, I do believe. My email correspondents already know what I’m talking about.

Update! Done, and DONE: the Mencken quote has now been added to my custom-signatures list (for interested parties, if any, said signatures are managed by the handy-dandy Signature Switch plugin for Thunderbird, of which email client I’ve been a delighted user ever since the incomparable Stacy Tabb at HM ordered me to dump Apple’s Mail app eons ago). So y’all aforementioned email correspondents can look forward to seeing good ol’ HL popping up in your inboxes before too long. EXCELSIOR—another CF promise KEPT, by cracky!

Must-see video of the day week month year century

After watching this amazing smackdown I have decided that I am actually a lesbian trapped in a man’s body, and I want to have Megyn Kelly’s babies.


AHHH, YEEAAAHHHHH! Okay, I’ll cop to it: I just came in my pants, a little. Now I need a cigarette, a shot of whiskey, and a hand towel to wipe the sweat off my face.

Update! Unsurprisingly given his own personal experience with the “transgender” cult, Elon Musk seconds that emotion.

Elon Musk, who previously trolled the pop singer’s announcement, offering to give her a child and protect her cats, agreed with Kelly, calling Walz’s policies “so messed up.”

It can be recalled that Musk was tricked into supporting his son Xavier’s determination to “transition” into a woman. “It wasn’t explained to me how puberty blockers are actually sterilization drugs. I lost my son essentially,” Musk told Jordan Petersen while sharing his heartbreaking account of the consequences of puberty blockers.

This is what the Democrats want for America’s children.

Megyn Kelly is right. Screw you, Taylor Swift.

Amen to that, with great big fucking bells and a cherry on top.

Historical illiteracy: it’s not just for the Left anymore

Man alive, obsessive JOOJOOJOOOOOphobia sure does lead some of us who really ought to know better into some pretty odd places, intellectually speaking.

No, Churchill Was Not the Villain
The historian Darryl Cooper has argued in an interview on Tucker Carlson’s show that Winston Churchill “was the chief villain of World War II,” which would be both interesting and indeed shocking were his thesis not based on such staggering ignorance and disregard for historical fact that it is safe to disregard completely.

Cooper’s first argument was that Churchill “was primarily responsible for that war becoming what it did, something other than an invasion of Poland.” Yet in the moment that Adolf Hitler invaded Belgium, Holland, and Luxembourg at dawn on May 10, 1940, Winston Churchill was not even prime minister. Unless Mr. Cooper is arguing that from his position as First Lord of the Admiralty—the head of Britain’s navy—Churchill was somehow able to force Hitler to unleash Blitzkrieg in the West, his first argument falls to the ground.

Hitler had planned his surprise attack through the Ardennes—the “Sickle-cut” maneuver—with senior generals such as Erich von Manstein, Erwin Rommel, and Gerd von Rundstedt several months before the attack took place. They bear responsibility “for that war becoming what it did,” not Churchill. Furthermore, they also bear full responsibility for the unprovoked invasion of neighboring Poland itself, about which Cooper and Carlson were silent.

In April 1939, when Churchill was not even in the cabinet, the British government guaranteed Poland’s security, so Hitler had no right to be surprised when Britain went to war with Germany when he flagrantly disregarded that guarantee.

Cooper’s next egregious error was to blame Operation Barbarossa on Hitler’s perception of a threat from Stalin, or a Soviet plan to capture Romanian oilfields, completely ignoring the genuine reason, which was the Nazi demand for Lebensraum—”living space” in Eastern Europe, especially in Belarus and Ukraine. One wonders whether Cooper has ever read Mein Kampf, in which Hitler’s ultimate intentions were made plain. Elsewhere in the interview he makes the outlandish claim that Hitler “no longer thought of Russia as an international Communist movement,” which contradicts all the evidence of Hitler’s public and private statements prior to unleashing Barbarossa.

Cooper next claimed that the millions of Soviet prisoners of war who died in German captivity did so because the Nazi leadership “had no plans for POWs,” ignoring the obvious fact, well supported by the sources, that in fact the deaths of millions of Soviet POWs were the deliberate Nazi plan for what to do with them.

Cooper goes on to castigate Churchill for not accepting Hitler’s peace proposals during the Phoney War from October 1939 to May 1940, stating that Hitler “didn’t want to fight France or Britain.” Yet by then he had invaded Poland, and had no intention of disgorging it, so the original casus bellum remained.

“The war was over and the Germans won by the fall of 1940,” Cooper states. Not so. The Germans had indeed forced the British from the Continent at Dunkirk by June 1940, but it is to Churchill’s everlasting and untarnishable glory that he kept Britain in the war until Nazi evil was extirpated. The war at sea was continuing, as was the war on the North African littoral. Greece came into the conflict in April 1941, drawing German forces south two months before Barbarossa. The battle was lost by Britain, true, but the war was far from won by Hitler.

Cooper’s wailing that Churchill rejected Hitler’s peace offers also fails to take into account the fact that had Britain made an ignoble peace in 1940, Hitler would have been able to concentrate all his forces on the East in his invasion of Russia in June 1941. Instead, he was forced to keep 30 percent of the Luftwaffe and considerable land forces in the western part of Europe. It was perhaps Churchill’s greatest act of statesmanship, that of a hero rather than “the chief villain of World War II.”

When Cooper blames Churchill for “demonizing [Neville] Chamberlain” in 1940, he is presumably ignorant of the fact that Churchill in fact asked Chamberlain to join his War Cabinet, where he worked closely and cordially with him, and then gave one of his greatest speeches as his eulogy to Chamberlain in November 1940.

“Churchill wanted a war,” claimed Cooper. “He wanted to fight Germany.” Not so. From the moment Hitler came to power in Germany, Churchill warned of the threat the Nazis posed to world peace, and how weak the West was militarily, but his solution was to rearm, not to monger war. He had fought in the trenches in the Great War and had lost too many friends in it to want another war, but he was willing to undergo it if the only alternatives were disgrace and dishonor.

Cooper then alleged, again without any evidence, that Churchill wanted war because “the long-term interests of the British Empire were threatened by the rise of a power like Germany.” Again, not so. All senior British policymakers recognized that the threats to the Empire came from Japan in the Far East, Fascist Italy in northeast Africa, and Russia in the Near East. Germany had no contiguous borders with the British Empire anywhere. A glance at a map would have shown Cooper that.

Cooper gave what Carlson called “the wryest smile I’ve ever seen” when he answered Carlson’s naïve question as to “What was [Churchill]’s motive?” in wanting to fight World War II. The true reason was that Churchill knew he needed to extirpate Nazism, but according to Cooper it was because “Churchill’s got a long and complicated history” that needed “redemption” because “Churchill was humiliated by his performance in the First World War.”

This ludicrous piece of cod psychology simply does not stand up. Churchill’s performance in World War I included being the man who got the Royal Navy ready for the war, who transported the entire British Expeditionary Force to France without the loss of a man in August 1914, who defended Antwerp during a crucial period that October, who undertook 30 trench raids in no man’s land as a lieutenant colonel, and who was the minister of munitions who provided the British Army with much of the weaponry necessary to win in 1918. The idea that the Gallipoli disaster, for which Churchill was ultimately though not solely responsible, made him feel a need for “redemption” a quarter of a century later is hogwash.

Cooper then describes Churchill as “a psychopath,” which surely says more about his own state of mind than Churchill’s. He goes on to make the accusation that Churchill “was a drunk,” which he was not, although he certainly drank a lot. Churchill could hold his liquor, and there was only one occasion during World War II when he was drunk, an astonishing achievement considering the pressure he was under.

I’ve not the vaguest clue what could have possessed Tucker the C to have this assclown on for an interview and treat with him as if he were actually a sane, sensible sort whose ahistorical revisionism was worth taking at all seriously, but I very much hope he gets over whatever it is and starts to feel better real soon.

Perhaps the single most crotch-chafing aspect of this spectacular, wide-spectrum self-beclownment—the Platonic ideal of what political pundits are talking about when they call some foolishness or other an “unforced error”—is the smear-fodder it hands, gratis, to salivating shitlibs, who will assuredly not let any moss grow on them before jumping in with both feet to take fullest advantage of the golden opportunity gratuitously provided them by Tucker, his out-there interviewee, and likeminded Jewphobic nitwits.

Not that I, you, or anybody else gives a fat rat’s patoot about what those “people” think, about anything. But still. To wit:

The shameful Nazi apologism of the Very Online right
Tucker Carlson’s chat with Darryl Cooper was a new low for the crank right.

Forget that toothless crackhead who says he had sex with Barack Obama. Never mind the lowlife pimp who cosplays as a lifestyle guru, Andrew Tate. This week Tucker Carlson scraped even lower in the barrel of cranks to find a guest for his chat show on X. He had on Darryl Cooper, a historian, podcaster and – wait for it – apologist for Adolf Hitler. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, we’ve now reached the ‘Were the Nazis really the bad guys?’ stage of contrarian online blather.

Tucker’s chat with Cooper has caused a storm. As well it might. Also known as ‘Martyr Made’, Mr Cooper is a notorious historical revisionist. He has huge beef with Winston Churchill. Churchill, not Hitler, was the true villain of the Second World War, he says. He’s a giddy promoter of the myth that Hitler made a peace offer in 1940 but Churchill rejected it and insisted on plunging the world into war. Hitler the peacenik – who saw that coming down the pipeline of online bollocks?

What Cooper told Carlson was insane. Churchill was a ‘psychopath’ kept in power by Zionist interests, he said. As for all those poor Jews in the camps – they ‘ended up dead’ because the stretched Nazis lacked the time and resources to care for them, he insisted. Depicting the Nazis’ industrialised slaughter of the Jews of Europe as an accident, just a sad, regrettable byproduct of their being too busy, is sick. It’s a species of Holocaust denial. That Carlson nodded along to such rancid revisionism is shameful.

For the true measure of Cooper, consider what he said in a recent post on X, since deleted. Paris under the Nazis, he tweeted, was ‘infinitely preferable in virtually every way’ to the Paris of the Olympics opening ceremony. To drive home his fascistic point, he put a photo of Hitler and his henchmen surveying the spoils of Paris next to a screenshot of that plump drag queen who formed the centrepiece of the Last Supper pisstake at the opening ceremony. Look, I hated the opening ceremony, but – I can’t believe this needs to be said – Paris of 2024 is preferable in every way to the Paris that was conquered by the marauding inhuman racists of the Nazi regime. This is where we’re at, folks: having to explain that a drag queen on your TV is less bad than a Jew-murdering machine taking over your country.

And this, mind, not from a wild-eyed Leftard, but the more-or-less moderate Brandon O’Neill.

Be that as it may, the inexplicable Carlson/Cooper lovefest suggests a question or three. Namely: Have the asswipes both Left and Right really dragged Western Civ to the point where it must only be one or the other? That—Roosevelt, Churchill, and presumably De Gaulle having been stricken from eligibility in the “heroes” category because the (Not) Smart Set has re-evaluated them as WW2’s Worst Monsters—we’re reduced to a binary choice between either Hitler or *gulp* Stalin? Either it’s Nazi thugs marching or Manwoman degenerates prancing down the Avenue des Champs-Élysées, no in-between option to be found anywhere along that wide, history-steeped thoroughfare? SRSLY, people?!?

Thanks a pantload for this stellar contribution to the public discourse, Tucker. New category for annoying twaddle such as this: Dem pesky ((((JOOOOOOOZ!!!))))

Well, THAT certainly didn’t work out too well

Turns out giving massive hormone dosages to and surgically mutilating severely mentally disturbed children, pre-teens, and/or teens might NOT be a cure-all panacea for either their crippling pathologies or for gun violence after all. Who knew?

Gun Grabbing Group: Kid’s Trans Surgeries Will Reduce Gun Violence
Groups advocating for stricter gun control laws are now suggesting that giving children access to cross-sex hormones and transgender surgeries will help reduce firearm violence. In an amicus brief filed with the Supreme Court for United States v. Skrmetti, organizations such as Giffords, the Brady Center to Prevent Gun Violence, Team Enough, and March For Our Lives Action argued that laws preventing minors from accessing these procedures contribute to a “climate of hostility” and put transgender individuals at a higher risk for suicide using a firearm.

The groups believe that access to gender affirming care is not only a medical necessity for transgender youth, but also a crucial component in the fight against gun violence. They argue that denying access to these treatments perpetuates the false perception that transgender individuals are a threat to society. This, in turn, increases the visibility and vulnerability of the transgender community, creating a “perfect storm” for violence.

According to Yvin Shin, a Judicial Associate at March For Our Lives, the organization will continue to fight until transgender youth can live safe and authentic lives in a world free from gun violence. This statement highlights the belief that access to gender affirming care is crucial for the safety and wellbeing of transgender individuals.

The tragic shooting at a private Christian school in Nashville, Tennessee in March 2023, committed by Audrey Hale, a transgender individual, shouldn’t be used to justify subjecting kids to irreversible and dangerous gender swapping “treatments”.

This whole thing makes me question the “trans agenda” real motives and their connection to the gun-grabbing movement.

As well it might, and damned well ought to. Then there’s this screwed-up-eight-ways-to-Sunday kid in Georgia to consider into the bargain. Why, it’s almost as if normalizing serious psychological dysfunction instead of treating it gets you more of that sort of thing, rather than less—as if, incredible as it may seem to the non-“expert” eye, indulging depravity, pathology, and maladjustment in specific vulnerable individuals is tantamount to endorsing it more broadly, which in turn amounts to encouraging it to run riot throughout society entire.

But naw, that can’t be right. Can it? Reminds me, just a wee mite, of this bona fide classic from Cap’n Mal.

Heh. Plainly so, Captain.

SF officials cut off noses

Successfully spite own faces.

San Francisco officials weigh in on departure of Elon Musk’s X headquarters: ‘Good riddance’
X owner Elon Musk’s plan to move the social media platform’s headquarters out of San Francisco has some city officials eager to bid farewell to the billionaire’s business.

“I share the perspective that most San Franciscans have, which is good riddance,” city attorney David Chiu told The New York Times.

The outlet noted that San Francisco Mayor London Breed said she had met with Musk “several months ago” but that she didn’t extend offers aimed at keeping X in the city, saying, “I’m not going to beg anybody.”

The report comes after Musk announced last month that he will move the company’s headquarters to Texas in response to a new law enacted by the state of California that prohibits schools from notifying parents if their children want to change their gender identity.

Musk said at the time that X’s headquarters would move to Austin, Texas, while he also announced that SpaceX would relocate its headquarters from Hawthorne, California, to Starbase, Texas.

He cited the gender identity law as being “the final straw” and attributed the move to “this law and the many others that preceded it, attacking both families and companies.”

Shortly after Musk announced in July that X would move out of San Francisco, he mentioned issues with the “crazy gross receipts city tax” making it “impossible for financial companies to operate in San Francisco.”

“That’s why Stripe, Block (CashApp), VISA and many others were forced out of San Francisco, as ‘gross receipts’ came to be defined as all transactions processed by a company, even if NOT revenue. That meant companies processing payments either had to leave SF or die,” Musk said last month. “Even if the severe crime problem in SF were to be solved tomorrow, X could not remain in SF and launch payments, as it would immediately fail.”

Will the last sane person to flee what was once one of the most lovely, eminently livable cities in all the world please turn off the lights? Thank you.

Hit the road, Jack

It’s already been noted by Barry and Kenny in the comments, and happily, it appears to be the genuine article.

Normalcy advocate Robby Starbuck makes Harley-Davidson do a U-turn on woke policies
Conservative boycotts evidently work wonders.

Conservative filmmaker Robby Starbuck announced on X Monday that under threat of boycott and amidst a concerted pressure campaign, the 121-year-old motorcycle manufacturer Harley-Davidson has scrapped various leftist initiatives.

“We did it again,” wrote Starbuck. “3 for 3. The left fears what I’m doing because it’s effective. The attacks will increase with the plan we have but we have a plan and it accounts for the arrows that will be fired at us. We won’t slow down for anyone.”

Blaze News previously reported that Starbuck and others blasted Tractor Supply, a company established in 1938, for mandating that its employees undergo “LGBTQIA+ training,” for funding sex-change mutilations through its health plan, and for sponsoring so-called family-friendly transvestite performances, as well as for other leftist initiatives.

The exposure was evidently too much to handle, as Tractor Supply announced on June 27 that it had taken the “feedback to heart” and would no longer volunteer data to the powerful LGBT activist group that calls itself the Human Rights Campaign; would ditch “DEI roles and retire [its] current DEI goals”; and would jettison its carbon emission goals.

When similarly targeted for liberation, John Deere similarly traded the LGBT colors back for the red, white, and blue, indicating it would “no longer participate in or support external social or cultural awareness parades, festivals, or events” and would be taking additional steps to shore up customer trust.

Last month, Starbuck launched his latest campaign: a boycott of Harley-Davidson, a once-beloved motorcycle manufacturer founded in 1903.

In a series of social media posts and videos, he provided fuel for a Bud Light-style boycott, alleging that the company:

  • supports legislation that would enable men to enter “girl’s bathrooms, sports and locker-rooms”;
  • required thousands of employees to undertake training on “how to become LGBTQ+ allies”;
  • was a founding member of Wisconsin’s LGBTQ+ Chamber of Commerce — a group that opposed a law that would have saved children from sex-change mutilations;
  • celebrated two additional “Months of Inclusion” beside so-called Pride Month;
  • worked on having “less White suppliers, dealers and employees”;
  • partnered yearly with “Pride Ride”; and
  • partnered with the Human Rights Campaign on non-straight activism, ultimately securing a 90/100 rating on the HRC’s CEI index.

Starbuck also highlighted some statements made and actions taken by the company’s German-born CEO, Jochen Zeitz, that might prickle customers, including:

  • his boast that his corporate activism had at least one peer calling him the “sustainable Taliban”;
  • signing of a joint letter to the COP28 presidency demanding an end to fossil fuels;
  • criticism of President Donald Trump for leaving the Paris Agreement;
  • committal of Harley-Davidson to the UN Global Compact; and
  • advocacy for DEI.

“I don’t think the values at corporate reflect the values of nearly any Harley Davidson bikers,” wrote Starbuck. “Do Harley riders want the money they spend at Harley to be used later by corporate to push an ideology that’s diametrically opposed to their own values?”

Whatever pressure Americans helped apply in concert with the conservative filmmaker appears to have been enough.

At noon on Monday, Harley-Davidson stated on X, “We are saddened by the negativity on social media over the last few weeks, designed to divide the Harley-Davidson community. As a Company, we take this issue very seriously, and it is our responsibility to respond with clarity, action and facts.”

Harley-Davidson claimed that pursuant to an internal stakeholder review initiated earlier this year, the company has kicked its supplier diversity spend goals to the curb and does not have hiring quotas. It noted further that its “DEI function” has been dead since April 2024 and the company does “not have a DEI function today.”

More yet at the link, all of it heady, enheartening stuff. Sincerest kudos and a hearty Yo Ho Ho for swashbuckling “Normalcy Advocate” Robbie Starbuck, who says he very much digs his new title, as well he might. I know plenty of CF Lifers don’t much care one way or the other about Harley-Davidson, which is their good right. Ultimately, though, the Motor Company being hauled off into Wokester oblivion would have been another resounding victory for the Goosesteppin’ Left—something we can ill-afford more of, greasy, grubby bikers and cage-driving squarejohns alike. So good on ya, Mr Starbuck sir, keep up the fine work.

Another American icon bites the big Woke one

Gonna be a lot of serious re-thinking going on in American bikerdom thanks to this revoltin’ development.

Woke Harley-Davidson CEO Compares Himself to the Taliban
A Harley-Davidson rider can be almost anyone, from an actual Hell’s Angel to your kids’ orthodontist. While the company has had its ups and downs, the bikes have long been an American icon for riders with “a passion for the motorcycle lifestyle, valuing freedom, adventure, and camaraderie,” according to marketing experts Keegan-Edwards.

There’s an image that goes along with the iconic bikes, and although I hardly need to tell you what it is, I will.

That image is: “Islamic terrorist.”

Wait…wut?

In a video just made infamous on Wednesday by Robby Starbuck, Harley-Davidson president, CEO, and Chairman Jochen Zeitz says he became the “Taliban” when he became a board member and says his job is to “take on capitalism and redefine it.”

“It’s important that we create new leadership,” Zeitz said, “that we get others to join a new thinking of a more sustainable business, of a better business that is more equitable in every respect. Socially, environmentally, and financially.”

(For what it’s worth, German-born Zeitz came to Harley from luxury goods company Kering, where he chaired the Sustainability Committee.) 

Customers have noticed Harley’s descent into wokeism since Zeitz came on board in 2020, but comparing his role to the Taliban must count as a new low.

Indeed so. I never thought I’d see the day, and fervently hoped never to. Actually, it never occurred to me that such a thing was even possible. But sad as it is, deeply as it pains me to have to say it, I can only agree with this guy’s assessment.


Pathetic. Dismaying. Maddening. Sickening. Infuriating. William Harley, Arthur and Walter Davidson, the great Jay Springsteen, Chocolate George, Billy “Chains” Flamont, and Sonny Barger are all rolling in their graves like a Shovelhead stroker crank assembly at 6k revs. In their eternal disquiet, they shan’t want for old-school-biker company.

I pray to Almighty God that the Wokester wreckers and despoilers will someday be made to pay for their vile predation, their iniquitous disrespect, their illimitable arrogance, and their callow gormlessness. In at least one way, the usurpers and besmirchers of the proud Harley-Davidson legacy almost certainly will pay ere the end, as Stephen goes on to explain.

David “Iowahawk” Burge, a man who knows more about American car culture than almost anyone else you’re likely to meet, just called it the “Possibly single most hilarious corporate self-immolation of all time.”

It is. And yet I’ve reached the point where I’m not sure I can laugh over the destruction of yet another American icon.

Your typical Harley buyer is going to become like your typical Bud Light buyer: increasingly scarce, driven away by a brand whose management despises them and their values.

I’m forced to conclude that when Zeitz says he’s going to change Harley-Davidson “in a sustainable way,” he means he thinks he can milk the company for several years before the loss of market value and brand cachet forces the board to kick his can to the curb.

It’d be nice to think so, perhaps, but I very much doubt that’s how the story will end. Far more likely, I think, that the Motor Company succumbs finally to the Wokester mind virus, goes out of business, and is forever lost except in the fond reminiscences of people like me.

H-D has very nearly gone under a good few times over its well over a century of sometimes precarious existence. How Kafka-esque it is, then, that after having somehow managed to stay afloat through so many trials and tribulations—WW2; Korea; Vietnam; the late-60s/early-70s calculated flooding of the US motorcycle market by cheap imports from Japan’s Big Four (Hon-duh, Kawasucki, Sudookey, Yammahammablamma); the ginned-up fuel “crisis” of the mid/late 70s; the rise of Safety Naziism in the 80s; the slow strangulation of individual liberty, independent-mindedness, and the quintessentially American spirit of rowdiness, defiance, and devil-may-care ebullience; the crippling effects of economic mismanagement, FederalGovCo meddling, and general malfeasance under D卐M☭CRAT regimes—it should be PC/Woke/Leftardism that ends up killing Harley off once and for all.

Update! Just remembered: for anyone interested in further perambulations from li’l ol’ moi on the Motor Company’s serially abusive, exploitative, and/or contemptuous relationship with its most loyal customers, check it, yo:

I love Harleys. I hate Harley-Davidson. That seems to be the consensus among old-school biker types these days, and they just might have themselves a point, too.

The Motor Company has always had its problems keeping its hardcore fan base happy. It seems to have a special talent for stepping on its own crank and pissing off (or on) the very people who did the most to make it the institution it is today. Ever since I’ve been riding H-D’s (since ‘82), I’ve heard complaint after complaint, and seen the Powers That Be at H-D making the sort of bonehead moves, again and again, that regularly generate those complaints like some sort of whacked-out fuckup factory.

What the hell could they have been thinking when they decided to sue independent bike shops that used “hog” or some variation thereof in their shop name? I’m sure most of you remember that one. It ain’t as if Harley thought that “hog” business up themselves, after all. But they sure were willing enough to glom onto the idea—and then have their slickee-boy lawyers claim it as their very own private property.

That’s the opening ‘graphs from one of my Leatherballs columns—the very first of ‘em, in fact—for the now-defunct Outlaw Biker rag, the rest of which column can be read here. Last time I checked, which I admit has been a minute, the Compleat Leatherballs Archives are exclusively available here at Ye Aulde CF Blogge and absolutely noplace else, seeing as how the OB site went the way of the diplodocus some years back.

I confess to being right proud of the work I produced under the Leatherballs nom de villein, every ounce as much as I am of my twenty-plus years of award-winning, justly (in)famous creative genius at this palatial websty, so I think it only meet and just that the LB catalog should at last find its Forever Home rat cheer at CF. Do check ‘em out if you haven’t yet; even if

  1. You’ve never slung a leg over a leaky, squeaky, shaky, flaky ol’ Gnarley-D in your life
  2. Have not even a tiny, inoffensive, easily-concealable tattoo
  3. Don’t own any H-D dealership T shirts, engineer boots, chain-wallets, or black leather jackets
  4. Don’t drink beer, chase loose women, participate enthusiastically in barroom brawls, and/or have never spent so much as a minute behind bars

…and ain’t about to subject yourself to any of those things at this late stage of the game, I think you’ll find the Leatherballs experience a highly enjoyable ride anyhoo.

Updated update! Just a few more thoughts on the topic I seem to have wandered off to: namely, the Harley-Davidson Motor Company’s perennially-contentious relationship with its core customer base.

For starters, it must be noted that, until the advent of what we hardcores, ironbutts, and/or scooter trash dubbed the RUBbies (ie, Rich Urban Bikers, mimicking the once-ubiquitous “Yuppie” (Young Urban Professional) moniker), long-haired, bearded, burly Hog jockeys were usually welcomed at licensed H-D dealerships with open arms. Most of the folks who owned, managed, wrenched, manned the parts counter or paint shop, or what have you were dedicated, serious riders themselves; as such, they didn’t have a problem with biker trash, even patchholders, habituating their dealerships, whether buying parts or apparel, checking out the new Harleys on the showroom floor, or just hanging out with other bikers to socialize and shoot the breeze.

Growing up on Jap dirt bikes as a child, then graduating to the street with a Kawasaki LTD 550, I had always been intimidated, sometimes even a little bit afraid, of those big, bad, smelly, dangerous Harley outlaw-biker types. And the one constant throughout my entire life has been this bizarre attraction to put myself right in the middle of any situation, company, or environment I was scared of. It was like a compulsion, really. That being the case, being a-skeered of them biker ruffians and all, what else could I do but start spending my Saturday afternoons at the long-gone H-D of CLT shop on S Tryon Street?

To my astonishment and lasting delight, those big, gruff-talking outlaws were without exception some of the friendliest, warmest, most big-hearted people I ever have met. They took this 19 year old, wet-behind-ears shavetail in like a long-lost brother or son, encouraging my interest, offering to help work on or wash my Kawasaki, telling road stories, just generally making the newb feel welcome and entirely at home.

About two years or so of hanging around and establishing my rightful place among Harley enthusiasts, I bought my first Harley: a 1983 Sportster XLH (for nonitiates, an XL prefix=Sportster; FX=Super Glide, Wide Glide, Disc Glide, Lowrider, etc; FL=full-on Hog of fame and legend). It marked the beginning of my lifelong love affair with the smaller, leaner, more nimble sibling to the Big Twins. And incredibly enough, I continued to find the bikers I was meeting more and more of to be unfailingly friendly, outgoing, and quite mellow. In fact, several of the friends I made back then remain close, dear friends to this very day; I just missed a call from one of them, my brother Dean, due to my being in the can taking a whiz. I’ll call him back tomorrow, no worries.

In sum, then, the antagonistic attitude, the officiousness and contempt, wasn’t something I ever encountered at dealerships, independent shops, or bars catering to those scary biker thugs. Except one: an H-D dealership in upstate Virginia, only a mile or thereabouts from I-81 near the West By God Virginia line. The name of the ‘burgh whence this asshole enclave got its name I won’t mention here; the account of that misadventure is recounted in full here. But yeah, trust me on this: assholes, every man in that sorry excuse for a Harley shop was a pluperfect asshole.

Years later, I was told by folks from the area who would know whereof they spoke that I didn’t catch the dealership assholes on an off day; according to these people, the staff of this dealership was renowned for being snotty, obnoxious, and unhelpful. I was informed that, should I ever find myself in similar straits in that locality in future, there was a really cool independent H-D shop not far away on the other side of the I-81 overpass, a small, honest establishment which had nary an asshole, prick, or douchenozzle on the payroll.

I’ve had neither dealings with nor friends at the Motor Company itself, in any of its manufacturing facilities, warehouses, or administrative offices, at any level. What I DO have, though, is several friends who operate or did operate independent Harley shops here in CLT, in ATL, in North Myrtle Beach SC, and in Brooklyn—hell, as I’ve mentioned lots of times here, I spent more than a few years working in a CLT shop owned and operated by my close friend Goose. And those shop-owners and employees have given me a real earful about HDMC’s vicious, adversarial approach towards them.

As I related in the last-linked Leatherballs essay above, their relationships with the H-D knobs consisted entirely of threats, lawsuits, and legal, written, and verbal harassment. I never will forget the day Goose spent a good fifteen-twenty minutes enduring a barely-coherent harangue demanding that Goose posthaste and forthwith remove H-D’s fabled bar & shield artwork from our sign or face consequences most dire. Goose just sat there holding the phone out from his ear snickering quietly to himself until he’d gotten tired of it, whereupon he cut in to calmly and collectedly inform the frothing ass-clown that, y’know, thanks for your concern and all, but the fact of the matter is our shop doesn’t even HAVE a sign, never has had, much less any bar-and-shield logo painted, etched, engraved, or embossed thereon.

Goose slammed the receiver down onto its cradle, and we both proceeded to laugh ourselves sick at the ludicrous H-D dweeb, after which interlude we put the shop Rottweiler in his crate, locked the doors, and walked up the hill to the diner to grab lunch, still laughing all the way HA HA HA HA!

Out of, what, four (five?) proprietors of two-or-three-man independent shops in the CLT area I know well (lemmesee now; threre’s Dean-O, Smiley, Ben, Max, Eyeball, and Country Earl, so six), every one of them called us over the next few days to warn us of the impending telephonic onslaught from H-D’s rep in the York, PA Sporty assembly plant, informing us they’d had the exact same hostile long-distance interaction that exact same week as we two incarcerees of dear old McElhattan’s Machine & Rod had enjoyed, probably with that exact same besuited H-D numbskull, all concluding the exact same way: a thunderous hangup, a moment’s stupefaction over what the blue-black blazing hell THAT was supposed to be, followed by prolonged paroxysms of rib-cracking hilarity. For months afterward all any of us had to say to put the others on the floor rolling, kicking, and crying for mercy, was to launch into his best Goose impersonation: “But…but…but sir, our shop doesn’t even HAVE a sign! Not ANY!!!”

Remember, now, these independent businesses were the very people who had kept Harley going through the nightmare days of the AMF (Annoying Manufacturing Flaw) regency extending from 1969 to 1985, during which Harley’s manufacturing and assembly plants were auto-afflicted by a whopping 50% factory defect rate—which, translated from the book-keeperese, means every other Harley-Davidson motorcycle built and shipped to dealerships was a fucked-up piece of utter, hopeless shite. Your pardon, please: a fucked-up piece of utter, hopeless, EXPENSIVE shite.

Notwithstanding the unpleasant realities, the diehards hung in there with Harley-D, put up with the wallet-exsanguinating cost of parts and labor to get the overpriced lemone Harley had saddled them with running again, whereupon it would break down for the fifty-hundredth time that summer, be re-loaded into the pickup, and go back to the shop for yet another extended stay while the riding-season days ticked agonizingly by. As this soap opera continues, the payment to H-D Motor Credit continues to come due the first of each and every month.

I’m glad I wasn’t a Harley owner back then. If I had been, the urge to just throw up my hands and say fuck it, call the credit agency to please please pretty please come haul this overpriced, chrome-bedecked boat anchor off for repossession, thus freeing me to go buy the rice-grinding Honda I wish I’da bought in the first muhhfuggin’ place would’ve been crushing, totally overpowering.

“Ride With Pride”? Yeh, sure; pride is kinda hard to maintain when you spend more time pushing than riding, unfortunately. “I’d rather push my Harley than ride Jap crap”? In the AMF era, that oath would be put to the sorest of tests. “Better a sister in a whorehouse than a brother on a Honda?” Better ask your sister how she feels about it before you make a firm commitment to anything, bub.

Hey, I got a million of ‘em, ladies and germs. Be sure to try the chicken cacciatore, it’s so delicious it’d make your sweet old mammina weep from pure joy. I’ll be here all week folks, do come back for tomorrow night’s show. Of all the classic bumper sticker lines about Harleys, though, my personal favorite was, is, and forever shall remain: “H-D actually stands for Hound Dog, because they both love riding around in the back of pickup trucks and they both leave puddles where they ain’t supposed to.”

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