Monday Medical: Tourniquets

Suggested by article comments at AP

The title is not a typo. Come Mondays, I'll start doing regular weekly medical posts. I'm jumping the gun with this one. Maybe you'll get two this week. After the recent Blogcation, I owe you some back content.

I hope you never need the info, but these are strange days.

tourniquet: a device for stopping the flow of blood through a vein or artery, typically by compressing a limb with a cord or tight bandage.

Note the keyword "limb". Neck tourniquets are saved for use on murderers, terrorists, traitors, serial rapists, child molesters, politicians, telemarketers, people who drive 40 in the left lane, and any other of the most egregious criminals in society.

Historically, tourniquets were considered the Dark Arts in medicine, esp. field medicine, because you were "sacrificing a limb to save a life".

That's how they used to be, mainly because they were done with actual cord, wire, leather straps, and narrow bandages. And thusly set up, sacrificing a limb is exactly what they do.

Do NOT do that.

A) Because you're a dumb@$$ if you do.

B) Because we have far better materials, and much more knowledge, training, and recent experience, plus hugely better examples to work with nowadays.

Peer-reviewed medical journal articles, and better equipment, have documented conclusively that tourniquets applied in battlefield situations have been left in place for up to six hours, with no neurological or functional deficits noted afterwards. Six hours from application to removal in surgery is one helluva window for first aiders. 

So how can you take advantage of it?

CAT

The original, and gold standard. For sale by North American Rescue for $30@.

You can put it on one-handed, crank the windlass until the bleeding stops, velcro it down, and drive on. One and done. You have four limbs; you would be well-advised to have four tourniquets handy, somewhere nearby. (Not all on your weapon, belt, etc., but one on the weapon, one on the belt, and two more nearby in a kit/pack/car would be a great way to go. When you need one, you'll need it right effing now, not in 10 or 45 minutes.)

How easy is it to use? 

One-handed, total time (with slow instructions), 00:01:15 to apply, from on to done.

You should carry extras.

I probably have a dozen or two of these, including a couple of orange ones I use just for training.

Why so many?

Power tools: in the shop FAK.

Vehicle kits, each, and extras.

Chain saw: on the chaps belt.

Shooting range cart: a mittful of 'em.

Big Boy Military Rules: your tourniquet is for you, your buddy's tourniquet(s) are for him.

He doesn't have any? How much do you love him?? Srsly. Explain the facts of life to him, and wise him up.

You only have one? How much do you love yourself??

These have been around for years. They're already up to generation 7, or more (I forget). Older ones still work. Why are they generally single-use? Blood contamination/decon. Critical life support gear. You already wrote the time applied on the used one. 

But after TSHTF, when re-supply is a critical problem, you may be less finicky about throwing them away after a single use vs. attempting to decon and re-use them.

***Important safety tip: Beware of Chinesium fake versions!***

They're out there, and in abundance, especially from the idiots at Amazon and affiliates. Buy yours from a reputable brick-and-mortar or online dealer. (Hint: "Reputable" does not mean "cheapest". That's a fool's economy.) I have a 5.11 store nearby, and NAR has a solid gold rep online. So do some others. But a Tupperware bin from Bubba's Qwality Medikal Emporium And Knives at the gun show is caveat emptor, unless you know Bubba personally, including his home address, and trust him with your life. YMMV.

And if you ever get stuck with one you can't get a refund for, smash it and burn it, just like you should for unfixably bad weapon magazines. Like fake $20 bills, don't palm off your bad counterfeit on some other unlucky schmuck. Take one for the team, and fold, spindle, and mutilate those POS fakes, with extreme prejudice.

If you find someone selling them, tell them.

If the seller doesn't offer a refund, or fold up their tent, out them ruthlessly and often until they do one or the other.

SOFT-TW

Same idea (not better per se, just different, IMHO) than the CAT, with an aluminum (versus hard nylon) windlass. And again, about $30 from Tac-Med.

Application? Pretty much the same.

Unlike the CAT, it comes pre-threaded. It's beefier. It has a belt-and-suspenders method to secure it. And comes in a couple more colors than the CAT.

It's also heavier, and tiny bit bulkier.

You pays your nickel, and you makes your choices. There's nothing wrong with either one, and I'd be fine using either one. I don't care which one you like better. It's a chocolate/vanilla question.

X8T

Stick it in and give it a spin. Click and crank.

Just another way to skin the cat. About $38 at Rescue Essentials.

Others

The SAM XT and the TMT are just newer knock-off CATs for all intents and purposes. And, probably, less corporate support or research, but that's just a guess. They should work as well as the genuine articles.

The RATS tourniquet gains you speed and ease of use, but loses any mechanical advantage of a windlass. It's also a lot narrower than I'd be comfortable using on someone.

There are also straps, like the Touniq-Kwik/TK4, and the SWAT-T. 

The TK4 is really just a strap that you shove something in and twist, which is a flashback to 1940.

The SWAT-T is really more like a phlebotomy tourniquet on steroids, allowing you to make a pressure dressing, but probably a lot less occlusion of bleeding possible than a CAT or SOF-T-TW, and if you try, you're warned not to pull it that hard by manufacturer materials and videos. But it could replace or supplement ACE wraps, etc., in a kit where space is at a premium.

Getting into the Stupid Zone, there's the SAM Junctional Tourniquet. It's a bona fide medical device, complete with BP cuff inflation bulb, and works for pelvic fractures and other hard-to-tourniquet spots like armpits. But that complexity makes it iffy in hard use, and more failure prone. Plus, with a price tag of $350-$400+, each, (yes, you read that right) it's geared towards hospitals, public agencies with deep pockets, and solo users with generally more money than brains.

There are probably eleventy others if you dig deep enough, which I won't. These are the best quality of what there is, and most of what's out there, until someone else builds a better mousetrap. IOW, unless you've markedly improved on anything listed, IDGAD. As it is, I wouldn't use some of the above, but the information is there for those who march to a different drummer (or have their choices dictated by fiat from on high).

All of the above have How-To videos available on YouTube, etc.

TL;DRs

1)Get tourniquetSSS. 

Plural. From many, to a metric fuckton, depending on what you do or think (or fear?) you'll be doing.

2) Train On/Learn How To Use Them.

On every type you have. Including one-handed, for self-rescue.

Not just watching the videos.

3) Practice with them.

Frequently. Get a dedicated trainer model, and practice hands on. Nothing less will suffice for mastery, especially bearing in mind that you or someone else will be screaming, in excruciating pain, and gushing blood when you're doing it. This is NOT something you want to re-familiarize yourself with OJT on the day, under those conditions. Learn now, succeed later.

With ALL of your tribe. Family. Co-workers. Team. Neighborhood security group. Hunting buddies. Circle of fellow BSers. Everyone who knows how to use one is one more person who could save lives if things get sporty. Teach people in non-tactical circumstances: power tools, chainsaws, auto accident response, CERT/earthquake/disaster preparedness. You don't have to approach everything like Paul Blart - Mall Cop, Tacticool Timmy, or Gunkid with his Tactical Wheelbarrow(tm). Exsanguination happens all kinds of times and places.

4) Stock them EVERYWHERE.

For all of the above reasons. In job lots.

Imagine you were a bystander at the Route 91 Harvest Music Festival. Or a cab driver nearby afterwards. Not just the staff at Sunrise Med Center ER. You don't have to be able to save everyone. But what if you could save one person? What if it was a family member, or friend? What if they could save you, the next time?

Get busy.

R.I.P. Sean Connery

Shaken. Not stirred.

In his sleep ("He was shaken, but he has not stirred." Yes, I went there.), aged 90 years, in the Bahamas. (Where else, for the once and forever James Bond?)

There's little to write about a legend with 50 years in movies that hasn't already been written.

But I think I feel a movie marathon coming on, and not a Bond flick in the lot:

Murder On The Orient Express

The Wind And The Lion

The Man Who Would Be King

A Bridge Too Far

The Great Train Robbery

Outland*

Highlander

The Name Of The Rose

The Untouchables

The Presidio

Indiana Jones And The Last Crusade

The Hunt For Red October

Rising Sun

The Rock

The League Of Extraordinary Gentlemen

All very good to great flicks, in no small part due to the star, and all done after he'd passed 40.

Long after he'd hung up the shoulder holster. So much for a "Bond" career curse.

We are poorer for his loss, but were blessed by his talent.

We shall not see his like for a long time.

*(Which elegantly solved the glaringly unforgivable deficiency in High Noon : the Hollyweird-stupid idea that in any Old Western town, the town would crawl off and hide from bad men. As John Wayne noted, "I don't get this picture." With any lesser screen legends than Gary Copper and Grace Kelly, it would have been a notorious mega-flop. Make it a company-town mining outpost in space, however, and it sells perfectly.)

Boo!

If that doesn't scare the crap out of you and give you nightmares, probably nothing will.

Happy Halloween.

You've Had 4 Years' Warning...

Peter has this one dead-on right.

No matter who wins Tuesday (if we even know that day) someone is probably going to be pissed.

Based on 2016 experiences, likely frothingly so.

The Lunatard Left has been hyperventilating, dry-running, rioting, even killing on a small scale, and working themselves into a suitable frenzy if they don't take down Orange Man this time either, and it's liable to make 2016 look like a church picnic in comparison.

And if they do manage to win, especially with voter fraud like 110% turnout in blue hives, it's going to be even worse.

Being prepared for either eventuality is not the same thing as running around with your hair on fire, and you should be ready to suck it up and hunker down, or take a little well-deserved vacay if you have the opportunity. And canned goods, whether from the supermarket, or in olive drab metal cans, aren't going to spoil this winter if you don't need them right away.

Resiliency means you don't care, because you've got cash reserves, meds, food, water, etc. stocked on hand, and are staying situationally aware of what's happening in the nearest 20 sq. miles around your home and workplace.

Then based on what happens - on a continuum from "nothing" to "mega-riots", you're good to go no matter what.

You've got all weekend; whip that plan into shape, and stay frosty.

And FFS, come Tuesday next, don't be the Reginald Denny/Gilligan who cruises into a riot, and then gets pulled out of the truck.

The only sure thing about this election is that no one is going to go along quietly with the outcome.

Epicaricacy

Get Off Of My Lawn

For Peter

Remus x Mattis x Dillon Aero Precision.

QED

Because those mobs aren't going to kill themselves.

Plan B (And C. And D. And E. &c.)

WRSA has a link to an American Partisan article by NC Scout, with a sobering thought:

"I’m sure you have thought about what happens when the hospital notifies the Anti-Terrorist Police about the GSW that just showed up at the ED entrance."

Firstly, NCScout's homemade blowout kit is solid stuff.

No quibbles.

As far as it goes.

But slapping on some QuickClot and an Israeli Battle dressing isn't the end of your GSW problems, should such befall you; it's only the beginning of them.

Ignoring the yuuuugely unopened can o' worms behind high-velocity penetrating trauma, and where bullets go, and what they do, and why the sea is boiling hot, and whether pigs have wings, we focus on a nominally so-called "uncomplicated" GSW.

I.e., the "flesh wound" of legend and lore.

IOW, even if no major bones, blood vessels, nerves, or other important bits and bobs are hit, a simple in-and-out, through-and-through projectile hole will still find eleventy ways to kill you deader than canned tuna, if all you've got in your magic bag is anticoagulant and a constrictive pressure dressing.

I've only been toiling in this particular vineyard for about a quarter century, so I may miss a thing or two, but let's take a slightly deeper peek at this from my side of the fence, so at least the brighter lights out there will have some wee appreciation for reality, and make a dent into knowing what they don't know.

Given: You have no major bleeding issues, and largely no problems with function, and you elect to skip the E.D. for reasons of your own. And you pounded in your hemostatic dressing, and wrapped it well with an IBD, ACE wrap, Coban, VetWrap, or strips of granny's torn-up knickers.

That's great.

For now.

What's next?

In no particular order:

1) When was your last tetanus (probably tDaP*) booster?

Why? Because you've got about a 72 hour window from puncture to an express ticket to the graveyard if you ain't got one of those. For cat bites and rusty nails, anything less than 10 years is probably ok. Bullet holes, 200 yards of donorcycle roadrash, or a shark or crocodile attack, and 5 years or less is much better. You probably got your first one between age 4 and 6. You got a booster between age 14 and 16. So if you're 26 or older, and don't know when your last booster was, you're already doing it wrong. They're cheap, easy, and can be had at drug store pharmacies and most any Urgent Care doc-in-the-box, for around $20-40, just for the asking. Make sure your tetanus booster status is up-to-date. Period. You WILL see this material again, IRL.

FTR, tetanus spores live on everything. Not just on rusty nails. Any hole in your people suit allows them to get from outside, in the air, to inside your meatsack, where they reproduce away from oxygen. And make a new home. That's not the problem. As a byproduct, they produce a toxin, which increases until it paralyzes all your muscles. S-L-O-W-L-Y.

And after about Day Three, the booster is too late to head the infection (and associated lethal paralysis) off at the pass. 

You. Will. Die.

Horribly.

For those of morbid curiosity, that would be with your body bent as all the muscles in your back contract, and draw you up like a bow, with only your heels and head touching the mattress, awake, unable to swallow, dying of thirst and starvation, fully conscious, until your diaphragm and rib cage muscles can no longer suck air, and you die staring at the wall behind your deathbed, in excruciating agony. Unless someone kindly holds a pillow over your mouth earlier until you stop breathing sooner, to cease your further descent through the levels of living hell before you embark upon the afterlife, or oblivion.

As iconic baseball manager Casey Stengel used to tell people, "You could look it up."

This description is from the era before there was a tetanus vaccine. About a century hence.

To the crybabies and pussies who whimper, bitch, and moan about a simple shot, I generally lay this out about this fast, and let them ponder

Tiny injection...horrible grisly death. Tiny injection...horrible grisly death.

Choose wisely.

But wait! There's more!

 2) What about what physicians referred to quaintly from 1500 A.D. until about 1930 as "mortification"?

IOW, you're going to get an infection.

Bullets aren't sterile.

Neither was your skin on the outside, before it became a new orifice.

Neither were the clothes you were wearing when a portion of them was injected into your body at upwards of 800fps, or worse.

QuickClot ain't fixing any of that. Every minute after the initial corporeal insult, a veritable Noah's Ark of bacteria are doing what they do: eating, dividing, and multiplying.

Inside of you.

They're going to make you the new lead solo in the Choir Invisible in about a week, left unchecked.

Septicemia, gangrene, and assorted related nasties will all have their way with you.

Unless you get some antibiotic prophylaxis. I.e. something to kill those cooties, and give your own immune system a leg up on winning that battle.

Currently, antibiotics in the cephalosporin family are the first-line choice for uncomplicated pentrating trauma.

A gram of Ancef given as a butt dart, followed by a week to 10 days of Keflex tablets will generally suffice. I leave it to the brighter and more motivated to research dosages and regimens from the standard medical trade references.

If you're not allergic to them.

If you have no contraindications for them.

If you have an IQ above that of plant life, and have researched what, how much, and how often to take them. And when not to. And what to watch for during and after. And when to know it ain't working.

If you can get your hands on them, both, and in sufficient quantity for a full course of treatment. Or the second- or third-line alternatives. (People who half-ass their antibiotic therapy, and quit early, aren't just quitters. They're generally referred to as morons with low gray matter titer, and future inhabitants of Boot Hill, in the trade. Don't be That Guy. For the younger set familiar with That 70s Show, the phrase you're thinking of is "Dumbass!").

Hint: There's a reason 18D school for SF medics is somewhere around 18 months long, and it's not for PT and obstacle courses. There's a lot of stuff to know, cold. Patients don't come with multiple choice bubbles tattooed on their chest.

Still not close to done, kids.

3) What about all that formerly viable flesh in the wound channel turned into non-viable chum?

It's maybe going to need removal, before it becomes food for #2, above.

Sooooooooo…..got local anesthesia handy?

How about general anesthesia; and someone to administer it, and monitor your vital signs until you wake up, and reverse any overdose, or 57 untoward effects, and the medicines to do all that?

Oh yeah, and someone to do the actual carving work while you're numbed up, or knocked out? (Look, Ronin was a great flick, as was John Wick: Parabellum, but absent a scriptwriter with a vivid imagination, and a paycheck like DeNiro or Keanu Reeves, you ain't gonna do the operation yourself, biting on a leather strap, and sewing yourself up afterwards while looking in a handy mirror.

Simply. Not. Happening.

So...d'ya know a good surgeon? Or even a bad one? Or a simple MD? A physician's assistant? A dentist? A vet? A former 18D with a sense of adventure? 

4) What about pain control, now, and later?

What, you actually thought this wasn't going to hurt like hell, or that you'd get by on a couple of motrin and maybe a slug of gin?

As if.

5)What about related problems? Side effects? Bad outcomes? Physical therapy? And tending to you, including changing dressings, wound care, and drug therapy, not to mention making sure you get rest, food, and drink, daily, including making sure everything works coming in and going out, and notices when it isn't, until you're completely back to normal, status quo ante? (Hint: In the trade, we refer to that last compendium as "nursing". I or any good nurse pulls six figures/yr for a reason, and it ain't for juggling bedpans, despite the lame attempts at wit by morons who don't know any better.)

Somewhere close to now, you should start to realize that while it's a good first step, merely slapping a battle dressing on a bullet hole isn't going to cut it, unless your clever plan is to simply die a week later, at home, sitting in a puddle of uncleaned feces and suppurating pus.

We repeat, NC Scout's list is a good beginning point. An IFAK and a hospital are both useful items, but they are hardly interchangeable.

Best do a long re-think for Spicy Times, and secondary and tertiary sorts of considerations.

As CA told you in the OP above,

"Plan accordingly."

Or else, keep your life insurance paid up.

I repeat:

You WILL see this material again IRL.

*(tDaP = Tetanus, diphtheria, and pertussis - AKA whooping cough. Because your childhood shots for those ran out of gas decades ago, and yet the ongoing influx of unvaxxed yard monkeys from all these Turd World countries like Shi*holia and Trashcanistan arrive here over the back fence instead of through the front gate - i.e. legally - and without benefit of things like a First World course of vaccinations against Life's Little Catastrophes. Like tetanus, diphtheria, and whooping cough. Not to mention plague, TB, Chagas Disease, and about 4M other exotic nasties formerly confined to...wait for it... Sh*tholia and Trashcanistan. QED. Now ask me again why your medical bill here is so much higher here than it is for folks in those tropical paradises.)

Two Is One, And One Is Dumb

Yeah, I know.

It's "Two Is One, And One Is None."

Meaning: Anything you have only one of becomes a single point of failure.

Because Murphy hates your guts.

My version, while pithier, is more accurate.

So you have two of many important things.

So...how well and how far have you thought that through?

Be honest.

Maybe (unlike moi) you live in Free America, and a CCW is easy to come by (or not required at all - yay, Constitutional Carry).

So - of course, duh! - you have a second G26, or thug-stabbing stiletto, or at least a second duct-taped roll of dimes, in case something happens to your primary one.

So you're good, right?

Natzsofast, Guido.

Look at EDC again.

What's your real everyday carry?

How about keys? A wallet?

You got a second one of those??

I'm not rich.

Nor a building maintenance supervisor.

But looking at my key ring:

Car remote fob.

Car key for other car. 

Front door key.

Back door key.

Office key.

Locker key.

Safe deposit box key.

Safe key.

Gun safe key.

Bike lock key.

Weapon carry box key.

Generic luggage key for briefcase and suitcase.

Mail drop door key.

PO box key.

Keyring light.

Stash capsule. (For spare $20, or your Rx pill(s), etc.).

Keyring pen knife.

I thought about it one day, and realized I had some spare keys.

But I didn't have a complete-in-every-detail duplicate-of-everything-on-the-ring EXTRA key ring.

Well, I do now.

And not in the house with the primary set, either.

Because that key ring would never fall out of your pocket while you were fishing. Fifteen miles offshore. At night.

(Like all your suddenly banned guns did, or will.)

Your cat will never bat them off the counter and behind the least accessible piece of furniture in your house.

Your dog will never bury them in the rose garden.

There will never be a hurricane, tornado, or 7 point earthquake where you left them on the top of the bedroom dresser, and in the morning, you couldn't find the dresser, or even the bedroom, anymore.

Let alone the darned keys.

Oh, HELL YES THEY WILL.

Ask me how I know.

I can check several of those boxes.

What about your wallet?

Forget the $10, $20, $50 if you lose it.

That's the smallest problem, every time, if it gets lost, stolen, mislaid, whatever.

But killing a day at the DMV for a new driver's license?

Kill me with a salad fork first, please.

A dull, rusty one.

It gets worse.

There's a professional license in there too.

And half a dozen gotta-have-em certifications.

My permission to buy-a-gun card. (Yes, really. It's Califrutopia.)

My CCW. (Because even though it's Califrutopia, I'm not stupid enough to live in a gun-free county.)

Both a yuuuge PITA to not have, or need to replace in haste.

Then 3 ATM/debit cards, two credit cards, 3 merchants' loyalty discount cards, and - oh, yeah - Uncle's Social Security card, without which I can't get hired 23 times a month on 22 different television or movie productions, because I have to fill out a new I-9 every time I pick up a one-day gig.

And a DoD expired ID.

And a medical insurance card.

And a dental plan card.

And even a passport substitute ID card.

And a shrunken version of an FFL.

All easily and quickly replaceable at 3AM on the Wednesday before the Thanksgiving 4-day holiday, 2500 miles from home, amiright?

And then we get into the other eleventy things in that wallet, even after the quarterly shredding of the no-longer-necessary-or-relevant detritus that accrues therein. 

Oh, and one of my favorite things:

In case you lose your wallet/cards, the toll-free numbers to report them are all printed on the cards.

Right on the back of the cards you lost.

Genius, right there, no?

Spot the Logic Fail in this plan

But you knew Kinko's/FedEx has color copiers, right?

And that your bank will issue you duplicate cards for free, just for asking?

So that if, say, your house burns down, you don't have to wait 72-168 hours to get a new ATM card, to buy a set of clothes, a tank of gas, replace a dropped transmission, and rent a comfy motel room for the night. Nor depend on the kindness of strangers to call you an Uber, so you're not stranded in BFEgypt on a Saturday, and your @$$hole bank shut off your credit, because even though you used your PIN-verified card to purchase a flight to BFEgypt, you didn't tell them you were going there, so they waited until you flew to BFEgypt to cut you off from all your wordly goods and chattels, but only mans the turn-it-back-on customer service phones M-F from 10-4, EST.

Ask me how I know this, too.

And see if you can guess why I have a spare wallet, down to the last detail, including a spare modicum of greenbacks, because 90% of the time, a color copy of your driver's license is good enough (for anyone but the White House gate guards, or Trooper Goober of the BFEgypt State Police when he's pulling you over for a good fleecing for the crime of driving while out of state), and most of the rest can at least be copied, so you have those toll-free 800/888 numbers handy to report loss before you've acquired a new bill for a shopping spree, courtesy of the guy who lifted your real wallet.

And that's just off the top of my head.

If you're going to be prepared, be prepared to deal with the simple stuff, before you worry about the Zompocalypse/black swan events. In the average person's non-Walter Mitty lifetime they're probably going to lose or mislay keys or wallet a lot more often than they're going to have to escape and evade zombie hordes and travel cross-country in a epic 3000 mile journey to a Bond villain lair.

My apologies if this is news to you.

So fix that, and see what else you can apply the wisdom of a belt and suspenders to in order to not be caught by life with your figurative pants around your ankles.

Sunday Music: Good Thing

I like some country (and now country/rock) music, but I'm not a Keith Urban fan, per se. (I'm not anti-Keith Urban either, just purely neutral.) And then somehow, this bit of serendipity showed up on a suggestion list.

After watching it, I'm a big Keith Urban fan. I never get tired of watching this moment, for the same reason some millions of us love watching the auditions on X-Factor or Whoever's Got Talent, when someone walks up on stage cold, and totally crushes a performance this way. It's Susan Boyle blowing the walls off a theater and exploding Simon Cowell's head; it's Marty McFly ripping out a better Johnny B. Goode than Chuck Berry. It's every former little leaguer dream-walking out of the seats, calling his shot, and parking a fastball over the center field bleachers. In Yankee Stadium. (And if you don't root for underdogs and amateurs who do that, I don't know you, and I don't want to.)

A sage once wrote that "luck" is what happens when preparedness meets opportunity.

In short, a guy is lucky who prepares for a million-to-one shot, and then out of nowhere, the opportunity to take it presents itself, and instead of making excuses for not being ready, they rise to the challenge of the moment.

This is exactly that moment for rookie of the minute Rob Joyce.

What were the chances?

Also, mad props to Urban for giving an unknown a shot, risking the guy getting on stage and sucking horrendously, but instead fortuitously picking the right guy at the right moment, and catching lightning in a bottle like this.

Ditto to Urban's bandmates, who rush back onstage, and back the guy up like a brother, because talent recognizes talent.

Enjoy the track, and the moment.

This is what life should be like as often as possible.

"Good Thing" indeed.

Yeeeeeeeeeeeehaw!

Finally got this pig back up on its skates.

The Super Deluxe Blogmaster is now running on Mr. Fusion, with a UHD display.

No more steam-powered drive with the add-on sepia-tone kinescope.

Those days are as dead as the old hard drive.

Including control of the formatting and paragraph breaks.

(And I'll go back and fix the previous entries. Especially for GVDL.)

Next step is getting my meme and pic library back up to spec.

(Update: score!)

And just in time for the fun a week from Tuesday, too.

Missed y'all. Hope you're well.

Here's Your Big Chance

Trump has Kung Flu. 

(Bummer for those of you who thought this was un-possible, but such is the price of delusion.) 

A) They rushed him to Walter Reed. Explain how this is exactly what they do every time the president catches "just the flu, bro." 

B) The Dumbocrats don't control the medical response, so feel free to explain how and why Trump is perpetuating this disease as a hoax, as if it is one. (When your head explodes trying to pull that off, feel free to get some toilet paper to wipe up all the sh*t it was full of.) 

C) He's doing well, and will in all likelihood (please, God) get over this with minimal impact. Like 97+% of those who caught it already have. Explain how they always do daily medical briefings coast-to-coast every time he catches a cold, gets a hangnail,or cuts himself shaving. 

Best wishes in those attempts, doomed to epic failure as they necessarily are. I'm sorry he got infected, despite some pretty stringent precautions. I'm glad he's doing well, and pray and trust that he will both recover completely, and kick the ever-loving sh*t out of the Hidin'/Kneepads (tm) ticket in upcoming debates, and the coming election. 

But neither sentiment does anything but confirm that this is really a thing, and it ain't "just the flu, bro", nor do anything but underline that you're far from done with it, even now. (Recall when we told you next Easter, minimum, while noting that anything better and sooner would bring nothing but shouts of ecstasy from this blog.) Then Google-search "European/Worldwide Second Wave", and get back to us. 

We have 200K fatalities (juiced or not, it's what we got to work with). WHO guesstimates - guesstimates, we emphasize - a worldwide penetration of this of no more than 10% of the population. (The @$$holes running NYFC and NYFS and running the city subways carefree 24/7/365 during the height of the outbreak there, and shoving infected patients into ill-prepared nursing homes were obvious over-achievers.) Do the math, and tell the class what a nationwide 100% penetration would tally to in the US, seeing as most states never got to even 5%, and then go back and look at our rosiest worst-case projections, if this had been met with zero response, from earlier in this year. 

Then, kindly STFU, as we already knew that answer before you did, and yet again, events have borne that out. 

To breezily quote no less an authority than President Jed Bartlett, "You were wrong. Just sit there and be wrong in your wrongness." 

Yet again, my epicaricacy knows no bounds.