Harder Than A Hoover

Maybe Just A Fist Bump?

An Army Of None

And While They're Up...

It's far past time our worthless, shiftless congressweasels called Gen. Anthony Cotton (the irony of a black man named "cotton" we leave for another time), the head of STRATCOM, the folks who run our nuclear weapons forces, onto the carpet to answer about whether the White House "nuclear football" contains 

a) codes and communications gear for nuclear response, or 

b) crayons and coloring books to distract Emperor Poopypants when he gets cranky and needs a nap.

If the answer is a), Gen. Cotton should be court-martialed for dereliction of duty and gross negligence, in letting a functional retard with the wits of a potato within a million miles of nuclear weapons launch authority.

If the answer is b), Gen. Cotton should be court-martialed for sedition and high treason, in holding a soft coup.

Because there's no way anyone at his level can be showing leadership, intelligence, competence, and loyalty, all at the same time. His oath was to the Constitution, not the Potato In Chief. He needs to be court-martialed and fired in any event, and he should have brought forth his concerns, either to the chain of command, or direct to Congress, long since before now. We can't have anyone so toadying, waffling, and slovenly in charge of our nuclear forces, for even a minute. Period. Bust him to permanent colonel, and retire the sonofabitch, as a regrettable mistake. He's the archetypical example of why the Air Farce is an honorable alternative to actual military service. Curtis LeMay would have had him shot.

In either instance, the testimony in his defense should be evidence that it's 40 months past time when the Cabinet convened to strip Biden of his office and responsibilities, and send him back to the Delaware Home For Stumbling Bumbling Retards, to spend his declining months in peace and quiet, while he shits himself privately, after his family can gain no more perks from his former pretended glory.

The world is wondering every minute what kind of a potato is in charge of the entire US government, and the other nuclear powers, all eight of them, deserve to know that we haven't left our nuclear arsenal within the grasp of a diaper-shitting toddler with anger issues.

The congressweasels, all 435 of them up for re-election, need to stop tap-dancing and fucking around on such a critical point, and get down to brass tacks on this question, once and for all.

And then begin the drumbeat calling for Biden's removal, for cause.

This is too important an issue to be looking at politics. Armageddon is at stake.

Uh...Thanks?

Passing The Torch

Wait, WTF???

You Must Remember This: Brutus Is An Honorable Man

A few updated points, if I may:

Somebody made the decision to half-ass Trump's protective detail all along.

Somebody made the decision, despite multiple requests from the campaign, not to increase Trump's protective detail.

Somebody decided, despite clear and credible threats of an Iranian assassination plot, not to increase Trump's detail in the days prior to the Butler assassination attempt.

Somebody decided to deliberately and knowingly lie about that, and claim that just the opposite had happened.

Somebody on Trump's detail made the jackassical decision to place the nearest building to Trump's podium outside Secret Service responsibility, against all common sense and basic SOP.

Somebody made the jackassical decision not to put Secret Service countersnipers on top of that very building.

Somebody made the decision to not have everyone on the same radio frequencies, and not to have liaison officers from all agencies in each others' command posts, to literally make sure everyone was on the same page at all times during the event.

Somebody made the decision to pull all of Trump's actual Secret Service bodyguards from him at this event, and replace them with fat-assed, half-assed, untrained and unqualified fifth-string security bumpkins from DHS. And just pretend Trump was being protected by the Secret Service.

Somebody failed to cordon off the AGR building in question, and prevent any random access to the building by people like RTA Fucktard.

Somebody made the decision to put the local po-po who were supposed to be on top of the building inside the building, where they could see and do nothing.

Somebody made the decision not to have officers literally in sight of each other in a 360° perimeter all around that building from well before to long after that event.

Somebody made the decision not to have officers on constant roving patrol around that building from well before to long after that event.

Somebody made the decision not to have such a patrol around that area even after a police officer spotted the shooter, photographed him, and flagged him as a "suspicious person" less than 200Y from the podium.

Somebody's failure to do those things allowed a random RTA Fucktard to carry an orange 15' ladder over to the building, and erect it, and no officer discovered that ladder for 10-20 minutes before the shooting, though it was in plain sight.

Somebody didn't control access to the building's parking lot, so they didn't see RTA Fucktard trundling the ladder over to the building, nor did they see RTA Fucktard when he returned for his war bag and rifle, nor spot him climbing up onto the roof in question.

Somebody's multiple basic oversights didn't find the ladder, climb up it to investigate, and thus did not see nor challenge RTA fucktard as he crawled into firing position.

Somebody had to have tipped RTA Fucktard off about the position of the closest counter-sniper team, and told him where the exact best position was that would utilize the intervening trees to mask him from their sight a mere 100Y away from them the entire time he was there. (If you think this "just happened", tell about the time you were on a plane, flipped a quarter that came up heads 100 times in a row, just before you were bitten by a rattlesnake and struck by lightning, simultaneously. I'll be at the bar while you work that out.)

Somebody coached RTA Fucktard and/or assisted him to scrub his entire internet presence, acquire three encrypted cell phones, and obtain multiple remote-detonated explosive devices.

Somebody ensured that there were no law enforcement or federal agents in position to see what RTA Fucktard was up to, but they couldn't prevent dozens of eyewitnesses from flagging the cops and feds down, and warning them minutes before the shots were fired.

Somebody put Trump on stage, despite a "suspicious person" who had disappeared, despite countersnipers watching RTA fucktard with a range finder and then a weapon on the nearest roof, despite those same countersnipers knowing (because any sniper's #1 imperative, especially counter-snipers on a presidential protective detail is to f**king observe intently) that no other sniper team had been on that roof previously.

Somebody didn't have someone posted inside the protective zone at the access gate between the Show Grounds and the AGR building with either the keys to the padlock, or a stout pair of bolt-cutters, wasting precious minutes of response to the threat while a police vehicle had to repeatedly ram that gate to create an opening, preventing any other officers to get to RTA Fucktard's position before the fatal shots rang out.

Somebody decided not to erect a sight-blocking barrier between the podium and that building (a standard event precaution), making any view, or shots besides random ones visually impossible.

Somebody decided to do this, at Trump's last public appearance before the Republican convention, which was unusually and totally uncharacteristically being carried on live television.

And yet, RTA Fucktard showed up at the rally from 60 miles away, walked around scoping the scene out, walked a ladder into position, carried his tools and toys onto the one roof within a mile with absolutely no federal agents or local LE presence on it or near it, got into position unseen (except by alert Trump MAGAholics in the crowd), took his sweet ass time to line up his shot, and launched 7-10 poorly-aimed shots at what, for anyone moderately skilled with a rifle, is "Gimme" range - the shooting equivalent of a 3" putt in golf - who nonetheless managed to miss Trump all but one time, and inflicted on him about the least serious wound one could receive, while missing a catastrophic one-shot kill, with brain explosion, by about 2 cm.

Flip a coin 23 times.

The odds of getting the same result 23 times is approximately 1 in 8,000,000.

That's the odds this "just happened" because of "incompetence".

The chances of missing a killing shot, for a barely-able shooter on a 6'3" 215# man standing fairly still at 130y is 4%. 

[We state this because a congressman from Texas, who owns an AR-15, which he hadn't fired for 6 years, re-created the shot this week for himself - 16 shots at 140Y from a barely sloped roof at a head-sized target  shortly before dusk - and obtained killshots on his target 15 times out of 16 attempts. No wonder whoever set this patsy up thought he couldn't possibly fail.]

The shooter fired between 7-10 rounds, per all leaked data.

4% of 4% of 4% of 4% of 4% of 4% of 4% is 0.000000016384%.

1/16billionth of a percent chance he misses with all rounds, except for an insignificant nick.

After a 1 in 8 Million chance of getting there to take the shots in the first place.

So go ahead on, and tell me this was "just simple incompetence".

Ms. Cheatle needs to be black-bagged, flown to Gitmo, and waterboarded until her recollection improves significantly.

With red-hot blacksmith pincers, thumbscrews, and power tools to motivate her to push beyond any lapses or reticence.

And then have it repeated, until she tells the identical story every day for two weeks.

And then repeat it again, simply because she deserves two weeks of enhanced interrogation on general principles.

After that, shoot her in the head and dump the corpse at sea, for all I care.

In a just world, she'd be drawn, quartered, the parts charred, and the charcoal displayed in the four corners of the country, pour encourager les autres.

But not until she coughs up everything she's hiding, and everything she knows (or was in on).

So Much For Democracy

Democracy doesn't "just die". The Democommunists strangle it.

¡Viva Chiquitastan!

BOLO: Missing. Also Past His Freshness Date.

Don't Get High On Your Own Supply

The Democommunist leadership (for some value of that word) is obviously smoking their own shit:

They've been spreading and peddling so much bullshit for so long, and smoking it themselves, they can no longer tell the difference between their own bong-fueled hopeium dreams, and Reality. If they ever could.

Write this on your hands, kids:

The entire Democommunist Party is why you shouldn't do drugs.

Liars

Has Anybody Told Him Yet?

White House Press Briefing yesterday:
"Biden is dropping out of the presidential race."
1st Question: "Has anybody told him yet?"

Here's My Qualifications For The Job

She doesn't have coattails, but kneepads are a guarantee.

 

Pay No Attention To That Doddering Senile Fool With The Nuclear Football

Gear Whore Whore Gear

Politics is the art of the possible.

Wait and see if it's possible for one candidate to give oral sex to 80M voters.

(Who wants sloppy 79,999,999ths?)

It's A Long Way To The Top If You're Gonna Suck And Blow

Range Cards - Lecture and Lab

This embiggens.

Yesterday, BigCountry Expat did a post covering the basics of Range Cards. If you haven't, go RTWT.

Today, we give you a wee bit of practical experience in why they matter.

1) The idea that Fucktard had any kind of a difficult shot last Saturday, when he lined up his sights on Pres. Trump, is recocklulous. He should have shot a "possible", I.E. 10/10, and connected with 80% or more of them, in the bullseye, even with both eyes closed. A 140 yd. shot (or shots) from the prone position was stupid-easy for anyone without 10 left thumbs and Walleye Vision. 99% of anyone reading this would have needed to be Stevie Wonder to miss even twice at that range. 

2) Which is why it's doubly recockulous that the Secret Service, or even the Podunk Short Bus Retard Armed Mall Security, would have inadvertently left any rooftop vantage points completely unsecured at any range inside 1000 yards (6/10ths of a mile), let alone that any one with two functional brain cells would have ever, in a million years, left a roof 140 yards away completely unsecured.

This was not "incompetence".

This was handing a shooter a wide-open and deliberate window of access with plausible deniability, from a range at which anyone reasonable would have thought it "impossible to miss".

A million retards working for a thousand years couldn't "accidentally" make such a boneheaded Security 101 "mistake", and the odds are greater they'd have handed Trump a bullet-resistant protective vest packed - not with kevlar - but with wadded up tissue paper.

Once is happenstance.

Twice is coincidence.

Three times is enemy action.

Five hundred retard-level mistakes in basic security is a blatant assassination conspiracy, and the heads of the USSS and DHS should be waterboarded, then hung by their thumbs, 24/7 until they can miraculously recollect who put them up to this, then be summarily executed for treason.

This isn't a "conspiracy theory". It's being smacked in the face 50 times with a 40-pound mackerel named Obvious Conspiracy.

Stop Me If You've Heard This One

O Frabjous Day! Callou! Callay!

Rest assured, we'll have, O So Much More, on today's biggest news, but for now, this will have to suffice for openers:

With this, you can take at least one banana off the Chiquita Republic flag that's flown over this nation since January 2021.

More, SO MUCH MORE, tomorrow...

Secret Service Update

Sunday Music: All I Wanna Do

Sheryl Crow's break-out #2 hit from 1994, winning two Grammy awards, and simultaneously becoming the official song of day drinking. 
 

Product Launch In 3, 2, ...

Happy Peak Of Western Civilization Day!

Your parents and grandparents were bigger badasses
 in one day, than you've been your entire life.

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.

Follow-up 1. Follow-up 2.

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.

Going Forward

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.

The 3 AM Phone Call...

What They Had To Do

Think about that.

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 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