Friday, July 19, 2024

They're Not Even Trying To Pretend Anymore



Behold!: Operation Cosplay



People trapped under Soviet communism remarked that what was the most glaring and brutal repression was the ham-fisted obviousness of the lies. They would tell the most outrageously obvious untruths, and demand that you parrot the party line, or be eliminated, and they didn't even care that you knew they were lies, which drove home the point that You. Didn't. Matter.

RIP Bob Newhart


Few comedians get a hit series. Fewer still get two. Even less than that, the number who earn Emmy Awards for guesting on someone else's hit show. Find one who was married to the same woman for 60 years, and there's only TV and stand-up comedy legend Bob Newhart.

Passed in Los Angeles Thursday, aged 94, at home, widowed since last year, and after a 64-year career in show business. Which is easier to show, than to tell.




Thanks, Bob. For every glorious minute of it. We miss you already.



US Secret Service: Why So Sad?

















When the immediate agents around the Principal Protectee are more than a head shorter than that person, who takes a bullet to the head and lives despite your best efforts, none of them breaks so much as a fingernail, and their ride is slower to pick up the package than FedEx, simple courtesy demands that your director go home, and eat her gun.

Period.

And lest there be any confusion, we mean that with all possible sincerity. Had she any honor or desire to serve America best, Kimberly Cheatle would retire to her study, and suck-start her pistol, before another sun sets on America. A personal letter of apology would be a nice thing too. Do the right thing, Kim. Even if it's only for one shining moment of your whole regretful adult life, serve the greater good for America. We'd understand.

Then have an independent auditor start waterboarding the entire detail until they find out who was behind the conspiracy to murder Trump. And it wasn't some 20 y.o. lackwit from LeadPaintChip, PA, acting all on his own, and miraculously finding a chink in protection big enough to drive in the entire 1st Armored Division, with the band playing.

If the half of the Secret Service that might still be made of gold, instead of fish sinkers, gave a damn, they'd probably have to hunt down the other half. Which wouldn't be a bad start. Expecting the terminally compromised and horribly politicized Stassi at the FBI to get to the bottom of things is like getting fashion advice from Dr. Jill, and taking speech lessons from Sen. Kneepads.

This assassination was catered. Obviously so. The only real question now is how far up it goes.



Wednesday, July 17, 2024

Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight.


 

With Gratitude And Sincere Thanks


These moments gratify and amaze us, partly because of the Usual Monkeys (mostly Bravely Anonymous) who will be driven into poo-fling rage at the news, but mainly for the readers, old and new, who come here daily to see what we've churned out of the free ice cream machine. If we were our only reader, the blog would go on, but these milestones remind us we are not alone, and spur us, we hope, to better efforts over time.

The rollover will probably be in two to three hours (we're only about 1700 or so shy at the moment, with average days running 6K-10K visits), and we'll be out all day and about other business when it happens mid-morning. By the time we get home late tonight, we'll already be looking forward to the next million views, and what we'll contribute to generate them.

Be of good cheer. Our common enemies wouldn't be turning the screws down so hard on our internet sites, trying to ban our guns, or shooting our candidates if all those things didn't scare the Hell out of them. And they wouldn't be failing so hard at all three tasks if we weren't winning.

Paging: The Elephant In The Room

h/t Bracken

The only thing dangerous about this roof was the
loose wingnut on top.


















1) Congress tried to pull Trump's USSS protective detail months ago.

2) Now TPTB are turd-floating the fairytale that they upped his protection because of a plot even the Iranians deny.

3) So Trump's Butler appearance was what heightened  protection looks like? Sh'yeah, when monkeys fly outta my ass.

4) The 20 y.o. Whacktard Patsy working a minimum-wage restaurant gig magically has zero online presence, exactly like 0.00000fucking00% of his peers do. Change "monkeys" flying outta my ass to "gorillas".

5) He drives to an event 60 miles away from home.

6) Swarming with USSS and police, he pulls straight into the po-po local command post, walks a big black war bag over to a 15+' ladder, and climbs it and his dweeby ass onto the roof of the exact building nearest the front of the stage, which miraculously has no LE presence on top of it whatsoever, with police SWAT teams inside that very building. Nothing happens.

7) His presence is noted as suspicious, and he's photo'ed (instantly shared to all LE in the area) 26 minutes before the shooting starts. Nothing happens.

8) He's spotted on the roof, and ID'ed using a rangefinder over 5 minutes before he opened fire. Nothing happens.

9) No one notices a 15' ladder propped up against the building, despite LE supposedly looking for the missing "suspicious subject".

10) Dozens of local folks with cell phone cameras pinpoint the Whacktard getting set in position, and are screaming at the cops and USSS about a guy, on the roof, with a rifle. Nothing happens.

11) A local Keystone Kop gets a Laurel-andHardy boost up to the roof, and the Whacktard points his rifle right at the Kop, who shits his pants, falls to the ground, and calls in "man with a gun" on the rooftop in direct view of the stage, and the Principal. Nothing happens.

12) Counter-sniper team identifies him using a range-finder, and having a rifle, and watch him setting up and lining up on the podium for 3+ minutes. Nothing happens.

13) The local po-po Squat Team (that's what they do), having decided it's too hot to be on the roof, and too unsafe for them to be up on that roof, because it has about a 2° pitch, is instead on the ground, sitting inside the exact building on which Whacktard is crawling, with no visibility of anything. Nothing happens.

14) Whacktard takes up a position where he can see the target, but is screened (how serendipitously convenient!) from one of the countersniper teams by intervening trees. Nothing happens.

15) The other team, watching him for minutes, can't get anyone in charge on the common radio freq to give them a green light to open fire on an unidentified rifleman sighting in on the podium where Trump is currently speaking for 3 minutes. Nothing happens.

16) The cops inside the building could have simply opened fire straight up through the metal roof, if only to give Whacktard something else to think about besides lining up his shot. Nothing happens.

17) Whacktard goes full shitshow, firing rounds at a Trump-sized target (6'3", 215#) at stupid-close range, and gets off at least 4 rounds, and perhaps as many as 8 or 9. He hits three people in the crowd beyond Trump, and puts one round in the 0-point zone on a B-21 target, Trump's right ear, missing his skull - which would have been a kill-shot - by less than an inch.
Only NOW do the police counter-snipers open fire, and ventilate Whacktard.

18) Fat slobs on the "protection" detail take cover below the stage, and eventually, make a half-assed cover mound around Trump. Despite their best efforts, he's still alive, and they now take a glacially long time to get him up, and shuffle his ass to The Beast limo.

19) Fat asses on the team struggle to get the doors closed and the vehicle out of the area, and are notably corpulent, somnolent, and ignorant of dealing with exactly this scenario, even though it's their primary reason for existence in the first place.

20) It rapidly emerges that all parties blame each other, no one was responsible for the multiple criminally stupid failures at this event, and the Whacktard dead on the roof might as well have been an illegal alien from Mars for all they can uncover about him, his contacts, his co-conspirators, or his motivations.

21) The same FBI that lied about Hunter Biden's laptop, lied about the faked Trump dossier, let Shrillary off the hook, let Biden off the hook, raided Mir-A-Lago, and lied about documents they did not, in fact, find there, is placed in charge of investigating the "loud noises" at the event. Supervised by DHS head Mayorkas, and DoJ head Garland, the latter in contempt of Congress as we speak, and the former in contempt of the Constitution and the borders of the United States.

There is quite simply no brush wide enough to get by with calling all this "incompetence". It's not miles away from incompetence. It's oceans and continents beyond mere incompetence. So what does that leave...?

Quit fucking around, kids. Come to Jesus, and admit what's obvious even to Stevie Wonder, from space:

Say it with me, kids.
The truth will set you free.
















The Powers That Be Set Donald Trump Up For Assassination, and did everything they could short of handing out maps, rifles, and backstage passes to every pissed-off Left-Wing fucktard and whackadoodle in three states to make it happen. Then they cut the only link that could reveal their work, and are now actively stonewalling any sort of actual investigation.

PROBABLY BECAUSE THEY INTEND TO DO THIS AGAIN, WITH MORE (AND BETTER) SHOOTERS NEXT TIME.

AND THERE WILL ALMOST CERTAINLY BE A NEXT TIME.

Monday, July 15, 2024

What We Know Within 48 Hours











Either they're as incompetent at their jobs as Emperor Poopypants is with Parkinsonian dementia, minus that excuse.

Or their deliberate attempt to get Trump assassinated on Saturday is just as incompetent.

There is no third option to explain what happened.

Kimberly Cheatle, please do America a favor, and eat your gun.
You know it's the only acceptable answer.

Sunday, July 14, 2024

Sunday Music: Wanted Dead Or Alive


Bon Jovi's #7-ranked rock power ballad, from 1987. I'm sure this choice has nothing to do with recent events.

Opening Night At The Republican Convention



Tell Us Again About That Rhetoric "We" Need To Tone Down

Direct quote from Emperor Poopypants, just this past week.














Dear Leftard Communist Cocksuckers,

You've been shrieking and flinging your diaper spackle for nearly ten years, hyperventilating like whiny little bitches about Cheetoh Hitler, "a threat to Democracy", and any number of further delusional psychotic jackassical reactions, all because you can't stand the fact that half the country disagrees with you politically, and no one from mommy onwards ever explained to you the power of "no".

Yesterday, you came within an inch of kicking off the Revolution/Civil War you've been frothing at the lips to foment, for going on that entire time and longer.

So let's be crystal clear about the stakes here.

Your whole team will be on the menu too, and then we'll wade into the bleachers to get your fans.

You want to cry and project about what bloodthirsty monsters we are? Okay, have it your way. We're going to make even your worst nightmares pale in comparison to what you're actually going to get. If a man's going to get hung for a thief either way, he might as well steal, right?

Don't appeal to our better natures. That train left the station in 2020. Pray instead if you manage to kick this thing off, you get killed before you get fed to pigs, instead of watching them snack on you while you're still alive.

So you'd better get down on your goddamned knees, and pray to Jesus, Buddha, Mohammed, or the Flying Spaghetti Monster, that Donald Trump stays healthy as a horse all the way to the inauguration of his successor in 2029.

If he gets so much as a head cold from now until then, there isn't a mineshaft deep enough or another solar system far enough away for you to hide in to escape the wrath you've already got stored up.

In terms even your thickest halfwits should understand, it's like this:












And we'll do it with grins from ear to ear, and smash your babies' heads against rocks while laughing belly laughs, and sleep the sleep of the just afterwards. You'll wish to God your mothers had never met your fathers, and most of you will die from tortures so extreme they'd make Apache warriors puke, Aztec priests go pale, and cannibals will throw up their hands in despair (see what I did there?).

That's the land mine you're hopping up and down on. This post is 100% rhetoric-free. You want a return to civil discourse? You're ten years and more behind on that debt. Best get about it now, with a will, before there's an accident you can't fix. If you say nothing but "We're sorry, we lost our minds" every day until 2034, that'd be a good start.

Your move, assholes.



Be A Man Among Men

Pull The Other One, It's Got Bells On It

BFYTW

















Some people tried to tell us Trump said "Fight!" But we've heard Queens English -- not the Queen of England, but rather the borough of Queens in NYFC -- and we know exactly what word starting phonetically with a "Ffffff" sound Trump was saying after he was shot at, and survived.

There Are No Coincidences


Saturday, July 13, 2024

Expert Law Enforcement Commentary On The Baldwin Mistrial

Layers And Layers Of Editors
















Why Are Wheels Falling Off Boeing Aircrafts?[sic]

For the same reason Newsweek headlines are grammatically retarded:

Both outfits valued DIE Diversity Beans over functional competence, and neither AI nor Laqueesha can read, write, or spell at even a second grade level, and the same diversity beans at both places are too lazy and stupid to look up how to do their jobs better (by which we mean "at all").

Note for the Newsweak (not a typo) functional retards:

The plural of "aircraft" is "aircraft". Not "aircrafts".

People whose first language is English get this. People whose first language is Ebonics, not so much.

It's a measure of how far we've fallen that part of me is happy the headline wasn't

"Why de wheels be fallin' off dem planes, yo?"