The Daily Donnybrook, and other fine things

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Mike @Substack


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Freak has Teh SADZ©

Presented without comment, as none is needed.


Corrupt At Every Level – North Carolina Edition

Kenny and I have made it quite clear what we *think* in the comment section –

NC Election Result

Think it’s all over? Think again, as soon to pass the 2nd week after the election, the democrats are still counting and stealing a NC supreme court seat. And you thought they wouldn’t steal a governor election…

Redstate – NC Supreme Court

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No more business as usual, or else

Endorsed, a million bazillion kajillion percent.

As the scope of the FEMA scandal, wherein supervisory personnel made it written FEMA policy to discriminate against disaster victims based on political affiliation, has spread to being a long-standing and widespread agency practice, it’s time to remind people that such acts are not simply party fouls, but criminal acts under federal law, and that everyone who participated, or knew about but did not intervene to stop the practice, nor report a felonious official policy, up and down the entire FEMA chain of command, should be investigated, arrested, charged, and prosecuted under the above two sections of federal law, and imprisoned for appropriate terms in federal prison, both pour encourger les autres, and because they’re fucking federal criminals who need to spend fifteen years apiece in federal pound-you-in-the-ass prison, just to drive the point home. If that includes a FEMA director or cabinet-level secretary or three, all the better. Make Justice Great Again.

To hell with looking the other way, letting it slide, two-tiered justice, and weaponized government.

Round those bastards up, perp-walk them to jail, lock those motherfuckers up, and prosecute to the fullest extent of federal law, then bathe in the gallons of tears of progtards who will suddenly understand the second part of Fuck Around, and Find Out!

THIS—this right here, right down the fucking line. Elsewhere, Aesop hits another nail dead on the head.

Gabbard and Gaetz are excellent picks by Trump, but if Gaetz hasn’t indicted most of his predecessors and their underlings by next Valentine’s Day, he’s a waste of skin and oxygen.

Yeppers, that’s about the size of it. Since taking office Gaetz has talked the talk pretty well, for which I’ve cited him approvingly here more than just once or twice. But it’ll soon be time to walk the walk; if it turns out he ain’t up to it, as a surprising number of us seem to think, then fuck him for a game of checkers.

Bitch slap!

I’m nothing like as avid a fan of the Sweet Science as my brother Jeff is, and never claimed to be. Even so, I’ve been watching boxing since way back when Muhammed Ali was still Cassius Clay. So gimme a break here, I’m not a total dilettante. Be all that as it may, I found this story amusing as hell.

Mike Tyson slapped Jake Paul for stepping on his foot as their pre-fight weigh-in boiled over. 

Seemingly out of nowhere, Tyson smacked Paul in the face at the Las Colinas, Texas, event ahead of their Friday boxing match at AT&T Stadium.

Paul responded, “He hits like a bitch … He must die.”

Tyson claims to have not even heard him.

The smack was Tyson’s reaction to upstart Paul stepping on his toe, which he thinks may have been on purpose.

“I was in my socks and he had on shoes,” Tyson told The Post moments after the weigh-in. “He stepped on my toe because he is a f–king a–hole. I wanted to think it happened by accident. But now I think it may have happened on purpose.

On purpose? You bet your sweet bippy it was—seems like before most any heavyweight bout, there’s usually some hyped-up half-a-fracas or other along these lines at the weigh-in. Still: amusing. Video at the link, for those of you who are into this sort of thing.

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Meeting of the minds

GOD, how I love this.

Javier Milei becomes first world leader to meet Trump since election win
Javier Milei, the Argentinian president, has become the first foreign leader to meet Donald Trump as he flew into Florida for a visit to Mar-a-Lago.

Mr Milei is due to meet Elon Musk in the coming hours where the pair are expected to discuss strategies to cut government spending.

Mr Milei arrived on Thursday at Mr Trump’s Florida residence, where Mr Musk has also been holed up for several days, and will be the first foreign leader to congratulate Mr Trump in person on being re-elected US president.

The brash libertarian economist will also hold informal talks with the Tesla, SpaceX and X (formerly Twitter) owner. The pair will chat about their shared interest in slashing public spending and jobs.

Since taking office in December last year, Mr Milei has overseen cuts to Argentina’s bureaucracy, abolishing multiple government agencies, including entire departments, and sacking an estimated 15,000 officials.

Only a start, yes, but a damned good start nonetheless, one well worth emulating.

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Q: Is Pennsylvania the crookedest state in the entire Union?

A: Apparently so, yeah.

Bucks County commissioners vote to count illegal ballots in Pennsylvania recount
Bucks County commissioners voted to count ballots lacking proper signatures, violating a Pennsylvania Supreme Court ruling earlier this year.

The three-member board voted two to one to count these illegal ballots in the Senate race recount.

“I think we all know that precedent by a court doesn’t matter anymore in this country, and people violate laws anytime they want,” Diane Marseglia said. “So for me, if I violate this law, it’s because I want a court to pay attention to it.”

Well, that, and you really, really, really want to help your D卐M☭CRAT pals steal yet another election, you dirty, slimy, lawless oxygen thief. To wit:

Republican Sen.-elect David McCormick won 48.93% of the vote and Democratic incumbent Bob Casey captured 48.50% of the vote, thus triggering a recount. 

However, as of Wednesday, there are approximately 80,000 left to be counted, including 20,000 mail-in and absentee ballots and around 60,000 provisional ballots. 

Counties must begin their recount on Nov. 20 and have until Nov. 27 to report their results to the Secretary of the Commonwealth. 

Casey, the third-term Senator, has not yet conceded the race.

Must I say it again? WHO THEY ARE. WHAT THEY DO. Ace opines:

Strom notes that this is the county — which now leans red, but which is controlled by Democrats owing to previous elections — in which Democrats attempted to shut down voting to keep Republicans from casting votes.

Figures. Trump’s doing well so far and will continue to do his utmost, I’m sure, but the sad fact is that this country ain’t ever gonna truly be straightened out till a YUUUGE number of these scumsuckers are pulling hemp—swinging from gibbets while the crows peck at their eyeballs. Period fucking DOT.

Don’t make me say it again, goddammit.

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America…

FUCK YEAH!


If this one doesn’t make your heart go pit-a-pat and bring a tear to your eye then goddammit, you ain’t anything I’ll ever think of as a Real American, and to Hell with ye. First saw it last week and decided not to run it, despite how good it was. It’s popped up several times since in other places, until finally America’s most beloved tall but brilliant, fabulously talented and visually stunning example of a placental mammal reposted it, which motivated me to rethink my earlier decision against running it. Thanks for that, Ms DS.

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Memezapoppin’!

Dammit, I was so intently focused on putting the previous post together I clean forgot it was Wednesday until just now. My apologies for being so tardy with this one, everybody. As you were.

Welcome to this week’s installment of our Wednesday meme feature, folks. Links to the “found via” sources will be attached to the specific MiQ’s (Memes in Question) whenever I can remember them, which likely won’t be very often. Only the first two memes will appear above the fold to save on bandwidth usage, since I assume not everybody who shows up at this here websty will want to see all of them. This intro will appear at the top of each week’s Memezapoppin’! post. Enjoy, funny-pitcher lovers.

Continue reading Memezapoppin’!

Skin art

Well whaddyaknow about that. I like Hegspeth even more now than I did; clearly, he’s my kind of guy.

BCE sez:

Seems that Hagspeth was a Rakkasan (the tat in the lower right corner in the regimental crest)

Never met him (to my memory) but it seems we were in a LOT of the same areas around the same time, to include Gitmo

Again: whaddya know about that. Where the post title came from: Skin Art, now sadly defunct. When I lapse into another of my maudlin reminiscences of the bygone days when I was “working for the magazines,” Skin Art was one of said mags.

EXTRANEOUS INSIDE-BASEBALL ADDENDUM: SA, which my boss-lady Chris proudly deemed our best and most praiseworthy publication, was put out by the likewise defunct Art & Ink Publications. Our other titles were my treasured Outlaw Biker ragazine, a labor of love for me and Chris on which I was tasked not just with ad design and layout duties but also cover design/layout now and again, as well as occasional feature articles covering full-custom Harley chops, bobjobs, and sundry uncategorizable oddities; your better class of independent shops and/or wrenches; biker events, runs, and other gatherings; and last but not least, the regular “Leatherballs” column (see the nav-bar link up top for my L-balls archive*). Additionally, we did Tattoos For MenTattoos For Women; and the outrageous, calculatedly offensive, disturbingly popular, and habitually pornographic Tabu Tattoo.

Tucked in a closet or under the bed someplace, I still have a big box jam-full of photos that people had sent in hoping to be run in one or the other of our mags, a great many of those pics featuring nekkid or practically nekkid women, in settings and poses that ran the gamut from “quite alluring” to “ unintentionally comical” to “what the fuuuu…?!?” A woefully high percentage of said hopefuls were uglier’n a mud fence, displaying all the sex appeal of a steaming, fresh-dropped hog turd. From the pics, you could see that these unfortunates were hard-bitten, slovenly, hatchet-faced slatterns with reek of cheap booze, BO, and broken dreams practically wafting up off the pic in an eye-tearing, all-hands olfactory assault. In Raymond Chandler’s concise, unforgettable sum-up: too much makeup on too many miles.

On the other hand, though, many of those half-clad aspiring biker-zine models were legitimately smokin’ hot, against every expectation of us office-drones slaving thanklessly away under the A&I lash.

Ahh, but the unsolicited submissions with Tabue Tetoooz Crayola’d illegibly in large, wobbly block print across the front of a ragged, worn-soft Manila envelope—no return address, because what mentally semi-sound person possessed of the smallest smidgeon of taste, discernment, self-respect, and functional eyesight would want the horrible things back, fer gawd’s sake?—were really something else again, I gotta say.

See, our production schedule required each individual staffer to upload one (1) set of the InDesign/Distiller PDF page layouts he’d been assigned to create to the printing company, with all the hi-res photos for said pages in their own separate IMGS folder (all covers were created in Illustrator, don’t know why). The uploading deadline  was each and every Thursday afternoon by 2PM; on weeks the four-issues-yearly (the others were six) OB was due we doubled up, basically, kiting two (2) completed magazines off to the printers—which, surprisingly enough, there were only three of nationwide, by the by. IIRC, the one we used was way out in the untracked wilderness of Ohio or Nebraska or Indiana or some other such Godforsaken backwater.

Biker, as the boss always called it, was pretty much mine and Chris’s baby, with Jeff standing by to lend a hand as needed. Job assignments for the four mainstream, non-emetic tattoo mags were divided between the staff, said assignments written up by Chris in a four-cell table sketched up for that specific purpose, printed via the office inkjet, then distributed to the worker bees on Monday morning. When Tabu week rolled around the impending ordeal (permanently assigned to moi shortly after I started at A&I) of wading through the most recent soul-blighting submissions imbued me with a queasy combination of dread, disgust, and morbid fascination.

The five (5) members of Team A&I being the stout, indomitable sorts we were, the crew never flinched nor faltered underTabu’s unholy menace no matter what. We laughed; we cried; we jokingly mimed puking into the steel wastebaskets beside our desks; the most revolting pics were passed around amongst ourselves for the requisite snickering, mockery, and marveling at—yet somehow, some way, we persevered; we got through our shared travail more or less unscathed. We stood manfully up (okay, okay, two (2) of our number—my comely, smart-alecky, unpretentiously sexy, and staggeringly intelligent platonic GF Joy and of course our bold, fun-loving, über-competent and -professional boss-lady Chris—were of the vaginal/fallopian/uterine persuasion) to the most putrid profanations, perfidies, and provocations the Tabu freaky-deaks could hurl our way, and still we prevailed. Vidi, retchi, vici.

Thinking back on those splendid days, “the magazines” was just about the best job I ever had: tons of fun; engaging; unfailingly interesting; personable, supportive, cheerful co-workers and boss. Sure, it could be trying at times; making deadline every Thursday could be stressful, and A&I’s owner was an avaricious, conniving thief, a lecherous old sleazebag, and a consummate prick on his infrequent trips from his Miami abode to visit the office. Nonetheless, the bottom-line fact is that there was never a dull moment at A&I. I miss it terribly.

* As I like to tell folks, my one and only stab at real-deal, no-shit journalism was/is the “Myrtle Beach Goodbye” article linked under the Leatherballs heading; for that one, I made phone calls and interviewed several players both major and minor behind the tragic cancellation of the H-D Dealers Association’s annual spring rally—all of whom either agreed to be quoted on a strictly anonymous basis or flatly declined to be quoted at all, for reasons I felt were entirely understandable once I’d interviewed them, especially Myrtle Beach’s mayor, city councilmen, and several restaurant/bar/retail shop owners; gathered all the facts, details, and undisclosed motives I could; formed my own original conclusions via a careful, impartial analysis of the information gleaned from two (2) weeks of diligent sleuthing; wrote, re-wrote, and edited my reportage; published the fruits of my labor in OB, and hey presto: JOURNALISM!

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Blast from the Past, Thanksgiving Edition

This essay was first published on Daily Pundit in 2017. More applicable now than then, I think.

——

I have one. You have one. We all have a tard in our family circle. If you’re lucky it’s not a blood relative, just a boyfriend or in-law, but they’ll be showing up at the big family get-together for Thanksgiving.

Not just any tard, either. A Progtard.

They’re sort of like the Terminator: They can’t be bargained with. They can’t be reasoned with. And they absolutely will not stop, ever.

Unlike the Terminator, progtards aren’t dangerous except in large groups or if they’re in position to ambush you from behind or to file a bogus complaint with your employer. Progtards are mostly pathetic, and they’re even more amusingly pathetic when they’re angry and self-righteous.

Herewith, a guide for dealing with the tard at the table. This will be most useful if you have someone to work with, someone contemptuous of sloppy thinking, of feeeewings, and of self-entitlement.

(If you’re the sole hard thinker at the table and you’re surrounded by progtards, you can still use these suggestions, but I wouldn’t bother. I’d just grab the carving knife and lay into everyone at the table. But that’s just me.)

College Mockery

Mocking modern education — indoctrination, rather — is a good place to start. Many progtards are in college or have recently gotten out. (I’m not saying “graduated” because so many don’t, especially not within the old normal of four years.) This is in large part due to many people being soft-headed progs before they grow up and get the stupid knocked out of them. College is for most a prolonged childhood which allows them to avoid growing up. It certainly doesn’t educate them in any meaningful sense. And it costs an arm and a leg.

Thus, our first line of attack.

(Remember, we’re not trying to enlighten the progtards. That’s hopeless. All we’re doing is entertaining ourselves by getting them all riled up.)

“So, how much does your college cost per year? That much? Wow. How can you afford that?”

This can lead to criticism about mooching off of parents or taxpayers. That’s unlikely to impact the progtard directly, on account of an inflated sense of entitlement, but might help to get others on your side.

“How much are you having to borrow every year? Ouch. So you’ll be a hundred grand in debt. Oh, it’s taking you six years to graduate? A hundred fifty grand. Wow. That going to be, what, a grand a month for twenty years?”

“So, how are you going to make a living so you can pay that off and still have a place to live and get a car and stuff?”

“That’s a good goal, but how are you going to get there from here? How do you get your foot in the door to get started? Is your BA in Music History going to get you a job at all? Will it let you pay your school loans? ”

“Wouldn’t you have been better off not going to college? You could have lived at home, interned for minimum wage or even for free for a working musician, gotten some real experience, and not had any debt when you were done.”

“Does anyone really think that degree is worth anything? Why did you even bother getting it?”

“My nephew did two years of electrical tech in community college, lived at home, and worked part time to pay for it. He got a job with the power company straight out of school. He didn’t have any debt and he just bought his first house. He’s twenty-three years old.”

There’s meat left on those bones, but that’s enough to start the poo flying.

Communism, Socialism, and Progressivism

Don’t miss the chance to bring up the repeated failures of socialism and its inbred kin. You can’t quite say that every progtard truly believes that socialism et al would make the world a better place, but if you did say that you’d be off by only a few. Note the comment above about getting the stupid knocked out of you — socialism and such are stupid ideas that sound like they should work, and they sure do appeal to the lazy and untalented and envious, and you don’t realize they don’t work until you’ve had the stupid knocked out of you by the real world. Students, educators, bureaucrats, and some other so-called adults who have lived their lives as hothouse flowers never quite learn that a lot of nice-sounding ideas don’t actually work.

“You know the amazing thing about socialism? It’s so good at destroying wealth that it doesn’t matter if everyone’s equal. They’re poorer than even the poor people in the oh-so-unequal capitalist countries.”

“No, I take that back. The most amazing thing about socialism and communism is the number of people they’ve killed.”

“Tell me, how many more times does socialism need to be tried before it’s ‘real’?”

“Have you ever noticed how often socialist countries have to be bailed out by capitalist countries after natural disasters? Why doesn’t it ever go the other way?”

“Socialized medicine. What a cute idea! Too bad it never works for long. Back in the 1980s, American socialists pointed at England’s national health system as the best example of how nationalized medicine would work for everyone. Then when that started to show problems, they started pointing to Canada. Canada’s socialized medicine had just started and looked good … until rationing and problems became obvious a few years later. Now anyone wanting to show an example of socialized medicine done right has to just lie about all the problems it has everywhere. But next time for sure, right?”

Keeping the Poo Flying

There are a few miscellaneous poo bombs you can throw if the conversation and acrimony are slowing down.

  • Che really was a cowardly murderer, you know.
  • Wouldn’t it be neat if the global warming scientists would show their data and algorithms so it could be peer reviewed?
  • Yes, that short, blue hair does make a statement. It says, I’m going to be a lonely cat lady before I’m forty.
  • Aw, competition isn’t fair because it means that not everyone will be a winner? Aw, let me call you a wambulance.
  • You’re right, things are different than when I was young. When I was your age, it was almost impossible to make a living unless you worked for someone. Going into business for yourself took a lot of money to open a store front or you had to be in a big city or be willing to travel all the time. Now you can write software or books or make videos or do odd jobs all over the world for basically no money down. You have it so much easier now.
  • I wish that women only were paid 79 cents on the dollar. I’d fire all my male employees, hire all women, and save big bucks on payroll.
  • Why is it cultural appropriation for me to eat tacos, but it’s ok for Mexicans to wear blue jeans and use cell phones?

And lots and lots more, but we’re up to 1200 words, and that’s plenty enough.

Enjoy your dinner!

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Two more excellent Trump picks

In terms of personnel, he’s gotten off to a much better start than he did in 2016.

Trump picks Democrat-turned-Republican Tulsi Gabbard as director of national intelligence
President-elect Donald Trump continued to fill out his national security team Wednesday, announcing that former Rep. Tulsi Gabbard will be his nominee for director of national intelligence.

“I know Tulsi will bring the fearless spirit that has defined her illustrious career to our Intelligence Community, championing our Constitutional Rights, and securing Peace through Strength,” said Trump of Gabbard, who had previously been rumored to be considered for defense secretary and CIA director.

That’s one, now for Numero Dos.

Trump nominates Florida Rep. Matt Gaetz for attorney general in surprise pick
“It is my Great Honor to announce that Congressman Matt Gaetz, of Florida, is hereby nominated to be The Attorney General of the United States,” Trump wrote in a Truth Social announcement.

“Matt will end Weaponized Government, protect our Borders, dismantle Criminal Organizations and restore Americans’ badly-shattered Faith and Confidence in the Justice Department. On the House Judiciary Committee, which performs oversight of DOJ, Matt played a key role in defeating the Russia, Russia, Russia Hoax, and exposing alarming and systemic Government Corruption and Weaponization. He is a Champion for the Constitution and the Rule of Law,” the Truth statement read.

Well, here’s hoping, at any rate. Senate Republicrats, on the other hand, seem determined to go right on dancing to Yertle McTurtle’s (Uniparty-Knifeinback) sour tune.

Sen. John Thune (R-SD) has been elected the next GOP leader in the Senate, ushering in a new generation of leadership after nearly two decades of Sen. Mitch McConnell (R-KY) running the conference.

A majority of GOP senators supported Thune, currently the Senate minority whip, in a secret ballot held weeks before Republicans take control of the Senate. He received 29 votes on the second ballot Wednesday, compared to 24 for Sen. John Cornyn (R-TX). Sen. Rick Scott (R-FL) was eliminated in the first round of voting after receiving the fewest votes.

“I want to thank my colleagues who placed their faith in me to serve as leader, and those who were supporting another candidate,” Thune said in a press conference after his election. “I promise to be a leader who serves the entire Republican Conference.”

The leadership election marks a monumental changing of the guard. McConnell, who announced his retirement from leadership in February, is the longest-serving party leader in Senate history, having risen to the post in 2007.

Bold mine. And a bigger part of the problem you ain’t ever gonna see.

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Forewarned is forearmed

Never accept food or drink from batshit-insane Leftard shrikes. I mean, not EVER. These days, that shit could get you killed.

Liberal Cat Ladies Reveal “Battle Plan” To Poison Trump Men With Aqua Tofana
Educated white liberal women appear to have lost their goddamn minds after the presidential election. Many have posted videos of uncontrollable emotional outbursts over a Trump victory…

… with some even threatening to adopt pro-life stances as a form of retaliation against men.

Others have made what appears to be terroristic threats, suggesting at the use of strong poison against men because they voted for the evil ‘Orange Man.’

Internet searches for Aqua Tofana—a potent poison created in Sicily around 1630 by a woman named Giulia Tofana, or Tofania, and historically used by women to free themselves from relationships by killing men—spiked shortly after the election results.

X user I Meme Therefore I Am noted, “HOLY SH*T, Karens lost their fvcking minds over Trump’s win and launched MATGA—short for Make Aqua Tofana Great Again.”

Please don’t make the mistake of placidly assuming they’d never actually go through with any such heinous thing; after the many infamias we’ve seen from them already, you oughta know better than that by now. WTH Kathy Frisby spells out the bottom line.


T’is indeed, no more nor less. Although the well-known Field Officers’ Iron Law of Battle Plans has been stood on its head here. In a first-ever strategic innovation, it’s the Enemy (a/k/a, US) that won’t survive initial contact, not the Plan. In fact, in what might well be the most bizarre twist of the entire bizarre, twisted mishegoss, that actually IS the Plan. Therefore, any gormless male presently sharing a domicile with one (1) or more of these demented Lizzie Borden wannabes is hereby advised to

  • Find yourself another place to live toot fucking sweet
  • AFTER THE FACT ADDENDUM: Find yourself a better girlfriend; what the actual fuck possessed you to get tangled up with a skank-ass Leftybitch in the first place, anyways? DUDE!
  • Meanwhile, as your search for more congenial, non-toxic living quarters gets underway, move into the spare room, garage, backyard storage shed, or your car for the duration; carefully ascertain that the door is locked and/or barred securely before you hit the hay every night
  • Regardless of your domestic arrangement, it is imperative that you always, always, always make sure she falls asleep FIRST, long before you do; PRACTICAL RESOLUTION: Until you hear her snoring, your eyes must remain OPEN
  • Contra what saner sorts might wish to believe, after her weeping, wailing, and gnashing of teeth over one (1) election defeat has finally subsided and the house suddenly goes dead quiet and calm (HA!), it’s still definitely NOT a good time to relax your vigilance, drop your guard, or shift your focus—not to any degree; as with lions, tigers, and wolverines in the wild, unhinged broads are most to be feared when you can’t hear them coming
  • Ever have what seemed at the time like a piddling little spat with your wife/GF/shackjob/significant other, only to have her fly into mortifying paroxysms of spittle-flecked rage and re-litigate the whole silly, childish dustup—straight out of the clear blue nowhere, word for spiteful word, in minutest detail, usually in a nice, quiet restaurant after your entrees have arrived—several years after you figured all had long since been forgiven and forgotten? Yeah, you need to spend a little time poring over the lesson contained therein, buddy-ro, until you fully grok it
  • Prepare your own meals, fetch your own drinks, open your own beers; NEVER leave your plate, glass, bottle, utensils, &c unattended, even momentarily
  • Same-same for bags of chips, cheese puffs, crackers, and/or cookies; bottles/cans of soda or juice; candy bars; cartons of milk, &c; if it’s been opened or unwrapped, if its tamper-proof safety seal has been breached, do NOT touch it, much less eat and/or drink it—leave it be no matter how hungry, thirsty, or just plain old bored you might feel just then; any packaged comestible, condiment, sauce, or seasoning you open should then be either finished off, carried around with you until you have, or thrown away; no more leftovers from last night’s supper pulled out of the fridge and re-heated, however much you may enjoy them; regard all such as literally poison, because they could easily be just that; teach yourself how to cook for one, it can be something of a pain, yes, but is by no means impossible; quitcherbitching and live with it—you’re the one who decided living under the same roof as a shitlib psycho murder-bitch was a dandy idea, so just deal with it, genius
  • Whenever you’re prepping, cooking, dining, or drinking at home, whether you’re alone or She’s nearby, continually check six; let your every action, movement, and behavior be conducted with the time-tested tenets of the Combat Pilot’s Survival Maxim foremost in mind: Head on a swivel; eyes always moving, scanning, sweeping; total SA (Situational Awareness)—many a fighter-jock owes his very life, literally, to those simple words of wisdom
  • What, you mean you haven’t moved out already? Thou fool!

You have been warned, fellas; heed or bleed, you pays your money and you takes your chances. These dames ain’t playing around, so you’d best not be either.

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Hijinks in liberated Churmany

Down Under blogosphere phenom David Thompson is another from the John Wilder school of bloggery: a gifted writer with plenty of worthwhile things to say and excellent points to make who is damned near impossible to excerpt effectively without doing real violence to the post it came from. Theirs is a long-form style which is densely packed, taut as a snare-drum head, with a punch like a George Foreman haymaker. As Salieri said of Mozart in Amadeus, omit a single note and the entire work would be diminished; omit a single measure and the entire structure must fall. So if you find it puzzling that I don’t excerpt Thompson very often, well, now you understand.

After all, what could possibly go wrong when housing with women a mentally ill man who likes to hold knives to women’s throats before stealing their footwear, and hoarding said footwear for sexual purposes? A man who delights in stalking women, assaulting them, and waving his tallywhacker at mothers with their young daughters.

A man who is referred to in the German media, somewhat surreally, as a woman, a she-person, despite being identified via the very male genetic material left at the scenes of his crimes.

Oh, and should you be concerned about the whereabouts of all those stolen items, fear not:

The defendant now hoards hundreds of boots and handbags in a large number of boxes; she had even taken her treasures with her to prison, where they were stored.

Her treasures, obligingly stored.

See what I mean, gang? Both Thompson and Wilder are longtime standbys of Ye Aulde CF Blogrolle, and we’re fortunate indeed to have ‘em therein. If you aren’t reading them on the regular, you’re missing out on something mighty good.

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For those of you keeping score at home

Looks like Trump intends not to be undone this time around by hiring all the worst people—namely, Obammy stay-behinds, Yertel McTurtle endorsees and other Deep State RINO picks, and sundry other Swamp critters.

Trump Names Two More Picks for His Administration…
Trump’s new administration is quickly taking shape. On Tuesday evening, President Trump has announced two major nominations that underscore his commitment to an “America First” national security policy. Trump’s picks are poised to bring a fierce dedication to upholding American interests and strengthening national security.

The first nomination was John Ratcliffe for director of the CIA.

“From exposing fake Russian collusion to be a Clinton campaign operation, to catching the FBI’s abuse of Civil Liberties at the FISA Court, John Ratcliffe has always been a warrior for Truth and Honesty with the American Public,” Trump said in a statement.

“When 51 intelligence officials were lying about Hunter Biden’s laptop, there was one, John Ratcliffe, telling the truth to the American People,” Trump continued. This kind of integrity, in Trump’s view, is what has set Ratcliffe apart in his field.

Trump will also nominate Pete Hegseth for secretary of Defense. This was a surprising move, as Hegseth is largely known for his role as a Fox News contributor. But Hegseth, a decorated Army combat veteran, is no stranger to national defense. Having served in Guantanamo Bay, Iraq, and Afghanistan, he was awarded two Bronze Stars and a Combat Infantryman’s Badge for his battlefield service. Hegseth is also a Princeton and Harvard graduate, pairing an elite academic background with real-world experience.

“Nobody fights harder for the Troops, and Pete will be a courageous and patriotic champion of our ‘Peace through Strength’ policy,” Trump said.

These are the latest picks in a long line of selections that the radical left aren’t happy about. Among them are campaign co-manager Susie Wiles, who was chosen as Trump’s chief of staff, with GOP Conference Chair Rep. Elise Stefanik, R-N.Y., being picked as U.N. ambassador. Former ICE Director Tom Homan will serve as border czar, and Rep. Lee Zeldin, R-N.Y., will lead the EPA. Sen. Marco Rubio is expected to be secretary of State, and South Dakota Gov. Kristi Noem will head Homeland Security. Trump also named former Arkansas Gov. Mike Huckabee as ambassador to Israel.

Encouraging, I’d say; all of those appointments actually sound pretty darn good to me, with the possible exception of Stefanik, maybe. Then again, even Nikki Haley managed to do a pretty good job in that same post during OMB’s first term, so how much damage can Stefanik really do there? Rubio, Noem, and Hucklebee fir particularly well in their respective slots, I think. The main thing now, IMHO, is that Trump lays down a solid foundation for President JD Vance’s two terms.

Helpful hupdate! No slam intended against Pete Hegseth, mind. But if for whatever unforeseen reason he doesn’t work out, Mr President Trump, sir, may I submit for your consideration another stellar SecDef candidate: your friend and mine, the esteemed (and usually estoned and esdrunked) Mr Big Country Expat. He knows a great deal about all matters military, can boast a great deal of experience walking point in hotspots across the entire world, knows a trigger sear from one of those shoulder thingies that folds down, once rigged up a homemade flamethrower that in fact actually did work as intended, and has been known to not suffer fools gladly or take even a small ration of shit from them.

Why yes, I DID steal that great line from my late friend Chris Pfouts, why do you ask? A-HENH!

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