h/t Weasel Zippers
(Totally apropos of Goolag's ongoing visit-jihad, today is the anniversary of my meme account. Imgur told me to share something memorable.)
"I like a good story, well told. That is the reason I am sometimes forced to tell them myself." - Mark Twain
h/t Weasel Zippers
(Totally apropos of Goolag's ongoing visit-jihad, today is the anniversary of my meme account. Imgur told me to share something memorable.)
So, it isn't just me, they're also fucking with BCE's Intrepid Reporter, Peter's Bayou Renaissance Man , and (UPDATE) Borepatch's blogs on Blogger as well. As they have many times before for other bloggers. Apparently they're now down to the humble working-class blogs.
Anybody else? Do tell, in Comments.
Honored to be in your company, gentlemen.
To the pencildick butthurt autists at Goolag, with only enough power to fuck with visit stats, but not enough pull to yank the blog(s) outright?
Goolag/Blogger have apparently throttled all traffic to this site, shortly after the previous post was published, with recorded site hits dwindling to a number lower than the number of commenters, which is impossible.
We have just watched the number of visitors going backwards with each refresh, so in fact, they're actually erasing visits and views in real time.
Kind of like a Biden 4AM election dump, but in reverse.
We also searched our own memes, and they no longer come up in Google images at all, despite a library of something over 4000 personal creations.
Mainly, after extending both middle fingers at Leftardia in general for as long as we have, we're surprised it took them this long to notice us.
The far scarier question that follows:
What cabal of unelected behind-the-curtains coup-masters are actually running the United States' executive branch, including the DoJ and the armed farces?
This pants-shitting fucktard can't even run a lawnmower, and any federal agency that refused to do anything he said would be on firm legal grounds due to his basic mental incompetence.
And clearly, his minions and their house-organ media buddies have decided that since they pulled off one coup with the 2020 fake election, another ongoing one now is simply child's play.
This is the point in world affairs where DefCon levels take on an algorithm of their own, as sphincters pucker up in nearly a dozen important places.
You're about to see what happens when the cabinet invokes the 25th amendment, because if they don't do it soon, come January 1st, a republican Congress is going to impeach him, and then prosecute the rest of this administration for an ongoing coup d'etat, and they're going to be absolutely correct to do so.
Which means the next Speaker of the House is overwhelmingly likely to be the next President of the United States, after the sitting veep is disqualified for conspiracy and complicity in the ongoing shitshow of elder abuse in this administration.
And after that, the REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! level nationwide will shatter the polar icecap on Mars, and 10:1 the range goes hot in both directions. Compared to this building tsunami, Watergate was a fart in the bathtub.
Plan accordingly.
Really, butthurt Goolag censors? Noticing Poopypants' obvious senile dementia, which Stevie Wonder can see from space, is what finally caused you to strangle this blog, and erase visits in real time???
All you're doing is confirming the truth of the assessment, and telling me where your open nerves are.
Expect Biden dementia stories to become daily from here on out.
If you can't figure out why he should R.I.H., you're either too young, too historically ignorant, or both, for further discussion. Being the Diet Coke of Evil is still evil, and being only fractionally less of a despot doesn't equate to being a good guy.
But in his favor, he's now finally become a Good Communist. Good riddance.
h/t Irish
I would put a Mr. Fusion nuclear reactor in my car and a 500-gallon gas tank just to pump this out with a 1000W filling-vibrating amp, and drive slowly around the Ellipse in DC for a week at 5 MPH with all the windows down.
Then sell a kidney, and hire the Goodyear blimp to overfly the World Series pumping this out during commercial breaks.
A rocking Bowie 1974 classic with a killer guitar hook and some biting lyrics, eerily applicable today, but nonetheless the title was intended as a noun when written. Probably better taken as a verb about now though.
h/t Porretto
Check in briefly once in awhile to confirm the Sh*tshow? Okay. Briefly. Once. In awhile.
But 24/7/365?? Hell no.
The only animal that compulsive is a hamster on its wheel.
Resign from hamsterism, take off your track shoes, get off the wheel. And go live your life.
A traffic snarl right up the road is news. One time.
A plane crash or flood or earthquake in Trashcanistan every hour, every day, forever, is irrelevant. Unless your relatives live right there, or you're a CIA analyst.
UN. PLUG.
You'll add years to your life, and you won't spend most of them in abject fear and dread.
Which drops MSM ratings into the toilet, then pulls the handle, and pisses off TPTB to unimaginable depths of panic, because you can think for yourself.
You should be doing all that 24/7/365.
From the Fluent Bullshit section of American Stinker today:
Actions that patriotic, freedom-loving Americans can take in this 21st-century civil war:
1) Use the tools provided by Act for America that allow citizens to easily contact their state and federal representatives about pending legislation that is being promoted by far-left Democrats. Various legislators have indicated that it takes hearing from only 40–50 of their constituents to make a difference in critical votes on pending legislation.
Interviews with legislators indicate that many consider a note or call from a single constituent to be representative of 1,000 people. Thus, a single citizen indeed is potent.
2) Form small groups of military veterans (and other citizen groups) to become active, vocal supporters of bona fide conservative political candidates. Provide this same support for strong conservative candidates for local school boards and other education positions. An example of a highly successful, activist veterans organization is American Veterans Vote in Virginia.
3) Parents and all citizens concerned about the education of America's youth need to insist on viewing the curricula that K–12 teachers are using to instruct students. Challenge any race-based materials, sexual orientation and transgender indoctrination, and anti-American books and other materials being used. Continue to appear at school board meetings to demand the end of any Critical Race Theory or derivative instruction being given to students. If necessary, contact the No Left Turn in Education organization for potential advice/legal assistance.
Maybe you could make cupcakes for the "End Communism" bake sale, or fill some water balloons. |
Paul S. Gardiner is a retired Army officer, Vietnam veteran, and graduate of the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, University of Alabama, and the United States Army War College. He is hopeful that the information presented in this article will help motivate an army of heretofore uninvolved Americans to become actively involved in the current multi-front civil war against the American constitutional republic. The freedoms and inalienable rights of all Americans must be preserved!
This sort of Pollyanna drivel and half-assed "let's don't really fight for anything" horsesh*t is why we lost the Vietnam War. Either Gardiner should know better, or he wants to lose like that again.
If you're going to fight this "civil war" the way you fought the War On Poverty, the War On Drugs, and the War On Communism, you're going to get the exact same results:
Rolled the fuck up, and shitcanned by Reality.
So either this wingnut doesn't want to win, or doesn't think it's an actual civil war. Thus, he's either evil, or stupid. There's no third option to choose there.
I'm surprised he didn't suggest writing a sternly-worded letter to the editor, holding a sit-in, or organizing a protest rally. Or maybe just shitting in your pants and hoping the smell will make the bad people go away.
If it's really a civil war, and you really want to win, half-stepping half-assed half-measures aren't going to get it done.
h/t Maximus
Normally, we pay no attention whatsoever to the rantings of the Great Canuckistani Buffoon, nor would piss in his direction even if he were on fire (which we suspect is a daily occurrence), let alone provide him a boost in link-looks, but every once in awhile, as noted by an astute commenter today, he ties his own shoes together at the edge of the cliff, then goes for a walk a la Wile E. Coyote, and we are compelled to share.
Glenn's stepped all over his dick on multiple blogs and topics, and served himself his own ass on a platter on multiple occasions on Peter's blog, after telling all and sundry he was the World's Foremost Expert on drones, and repeatedly goofsplaining to one and all that using small consumer-level drones to deliver worthwhile payloads was unpossible. And then doubled down each time real-world events showed how poorly his expert commentary aged. (The 200 YouTube videos coming out of Ukraine this year alone showing just the opposite would have kept a lesser fool in check for years, but Glenn fearlessly takes Dunning-Kruger to heights even the authors of the theory couldn't possibly have imagined.)
Still trying to claw his way to relevance, let alone victory, by guttersniping at moi, we have today's latest Glennish oeuf (or should that be Oof?), wherein he set his bumbling hand to posting the above pic, and ham-fistedly suggesting that it would be a pitfall we couldn't resist triggering.
Pay attention, kids: this is what happens when your ego outmatches your knowledge-base by a country mile, but you go ahead anyways.
The mine in the picture is a Russian TM-46 anti-tank mine.
As Mssr. Filthie's only discernible military service was probably as a waitress at Hooters at the local base, or as a camp follower in the comfort brigade, he's missing a few key bits of intel. If he ever threw a grenade at the enemy, 200:1, the enemy would pull the pin out, and throw it back. (As we'll demonstrate presently.)
Anti-tank mines, like the TM-46, typically require more force than anti-personnel mines do in order to set them off. Quite a bit more, in fact, precisely to prevent wasting 12 pounds of HE on a human target that could adequately be serviced by a pound or so. The TM-46 is no exception. It requires a pressure on its fuse trigger of between 120-450 kilograms. Never having landed on the moon, and thus well acquainted with the metric system, all good Canucks know that's the equivalent of between 264 and 990 pounds of pressure. The wide degree in slop on that weight range is doubtless due to Russian quality engineering. [Hint, Glenn: you could look it up.]
I (nor almost anyone else) couldn't manage to set that mine off unless I jumped on it from atop a ladder. It's probably more of a threat to bloviating and bloated ignorant fatasses, but never having seen Glenn myself, who can say if he qualifies? At any rate, one seldom brings a ladder along to cross a steppingstone bridge.
But wait, there's more!
Even with a ladder, and even if carrying Glenn's fat ass and monumental ego on my back when I did it, I still wouldn't have any problems negotiating what Glenn thinks is a hazard. Because in his haste to poke fun by pulling random shit off the internet, Glenn didn't notice that the arming safety pin is still installed on the mine in his picture. I could drive over that thing in a T-72 tank without any risk of setting it off.
[Second Hint, Glenn: you could've looked that up too.]
So we see what happens when Glenn tries to make himself look smart by making fun of other people, because he could only afford a half-ration of wit, and bought his training aids from the Acme Joke Company.
Thanks for posting something far more uproariously funny, especially to me, than you intended, Glenn, though not quite in the way you intended. I'm sure your little gag will get a lot of looks today too, but it isn't going to work out for you exactly the way you planned.
But trust me on this: Go full-boat on the necessary bandages, and be gentle with yourself when you're pulling your cleats out of your own wedding tackle. At least you managed to blow your own attempt at comedy up - in your own face.
And thanks for being you, in glorious full Internet technicolor glory, and continuing to live up to all my expectations, before most people even get out of bed in the morning. If I think about you at all this year, it'll be because I'm laughing at the thought of you. Seriously, though: Why not skip coming at me from lack of imagination (rent-free, man, rent-free), and instead try writing on a topic - perhaps even something you know something about - without embarrassing yourself? If only for the sheer novelty. In return, I can go back to ignoring you...pretty much non-stop, forever. Such a deal, eh!
Full props, man: If that Washington Generals coaching job ever opens up, you're a shoe-in. Stay classy.
1) Because I like Zevon that much.
2) Because BCE is probably going to need more money than his goal before things are over.
3) Four shifts this week, instead of the usual three, including one epic 42-hour day, and actually saving some lives, rather than just pit stops for the unlucky or unwise.
3a) [Pro Tip: Airbags are an order of magnitude better than no airbags, but a distant second place to not getting in a metal Matchbox furball in the first place. Remember that when you're thinking about whether you can make that move on the interstate, or should even try. Or considering whether 100MPH is ever safe or prudent in street cars. Even Dale Earnhardt Jr. had his limitations. Trust me on this. Or suture self. But I'm really over seeing another teenage Walk Of Honor corridor as they wheel the latest organ donor to OR for parts harvesting.]
4) It remains too damned hot, in a manner reminiscent more of FL than CA, with humidity being a pure mofo despite A/C.
5) Because there's really nothing new under the sun with our current Banana Republic, midway between cruising altitude and impact, and descent an accelerating variable.
6) End of summer doldrums, and some literal housekeeping and such.
Things on the usual online haunts are in a similar state. I've dropped comments here and there, but nothing I've seen lately rises to the level of blogworthy.
I have faith that a few days of regular sleep, and some fresh outrages will get things going again in short order.
Amuse yourselves or recharge your own batteries, as you see fit. Oh, and
7) FJB, BFYTW
It seems the universe didn't get the Hawking Memo, and all those galaxies are not flying ever outward into the abyss. They're all just sitting there, minding their own business. |
Waitwhat?
Hmm.
Fully-formed galaxies, old and young, hang speckled throughout the cosmos, as though Someone had one day just hung them up there hither and yon like enormous Christmas tree ornaments.
I wonder what that could mean, when a physical event and process no longer explains the existence of the cosmos. However will they explain this away next?
Cue the "It's just a great black sheet, with holes punched in it to let the light through, because aliens are trying to hornswoggle us" Theory, in 3, 2, ...
We were taught, and hold to the notion, that All Truth Is God's Truth, and firmly believe that we weren't given a mind and strong arms if not to help us understand the mechanism we inhabit, and we applaud all such exploration and illumination.
But the more of this we see, the greater our suspicion that cosmologists are intensely studying the rococo backgrounds and brick-a-brac on the stage with binoculars and telescopes, to the point of counting the buttons and threads-per-inch in the performers' garments, while entirely missing the glorious performance that is the main focus of this opera.
YMMV
Always remember that you came within a red whisker of having this douchewagon as a SCOTUS justice instead of Kavanaugh, which difference may well have been the only bright shining moment of Bitch McConjob's entire sordid Senate career.
Cheney: YOU'RE FIRED!
This blog joins the good citizens of Wyoming in wishing a tender farewell to the most faithless representative seen in modern times, in a manner that befits her service to her constituents:
h/t Mike
He ends up dying of suffocation and a broken neck before the train arrives, BTW.
FFS: Stop kissing the asses of the sonsofbitches who want to blow your brains out.
And stop listening to the asskissers.
Pure Prairie League's sole gem, released as a cut on their 1972 album "Bustin Out", but not released as a single until three years later, whereupon it when to #27 on the Billboard Hot 100.