O Please

 h/t WRSA

How Sweet It Is

 h/t Peter

Tab Clearing

 h/t Mike

Head Spinning? Here's Some Dramamine.

Item 1: (h/t Peter) Coffee and COVID site's write-up on the latest artillery Sweep and Zone barrage against the Deep State. 47's administration is teaching a masterclass in Shock and Awe, and the Democommunists are reaching the point where there's nothing left of them but body parts hanging in the trees. It's glorious!

And this is just what happened Tuesday.

Enthusiastically recommended. Go ye and gorge on all the winning, forthwith.

Item 2: 47s Shock And Awe barrages are coming so fast and furious (see what I did there?) that even the most agile commentators are struggling to keep up:

You haven't ever seen anyone, let alone a presidential administration, make this kind of impact on any government entity since Marvin Heemeyer welded some steel plates to his Killdozer and made the mother of all recreational vehicles.

If anyone's tired of winning yet, Trump's response is you better start working out, so you can keep up and handle more.

Sunday Music: Cold As Ice

 

Foreigner's first single in 1977, Feels Like The First Time, took from March to nearly June to claw its way into the Top Ten, and was already fading fast when this was dropped as their second single from their debut album in July. In three weeks it was in the Top 30, Top 20 in 6 weeks, and Top 10 by two months, (even blowing past the theme from Star Wars), peaked at #6, and was inescapable on radio for the next year. Foreigner went from "Sorry, who?" to "Foreigner!" virtually overnight.

It's also possible that every guy's dorm room stereo spontaneously blasting this song, with the pounding piano intro on "11", when played by a local radio station on a Saturday afternoon, may have been responsible for every door and window on the girls' dorm floor being vigorously slammed shut at warp speed, while delivering a witheringly pointed message on the dating ethos on a certain college campus that fall, and remains hilarious to this day. Just saying. One could make a case as that summer being the moment when nascent feminism began its long, slow decline into an endless future of box wine and cats.

Even Elon Needs A Little Help Sometimes

 h/t Mike at Cold Fury

Moar. Harder. Faster.

As every new day brings fresh butthurt from the latest Libtardian rectum, up which 47 has just fired a heat-seeking missile, I've been coasting, because AFAIC, the only words I could add to what he's done so far are in the title of this post.

If there were dogs on Mars, they'd be howling from the screaming going on in and around D.C. about now. How magical!

Everyone's Overlooking The 800 Pound Obvious Gorilla