Kenyacide

 

Sunday Music: Hot, Hot, Hot

 As in "It's too damned..."

David Johansen, AKA Buster Poindexter doing his version of the song from 1987, which managed to hit #45 on Billboard's Hot 100 that year. Still better than 90% of the current junk on the radio right now, and one that keeps popping into my head every time I see the thermometer in the car on the way to work. We also note for the record that we intend to conga line to this song at the grave site after Jane Fonda finally drops dead. You're invited.

Attention To Orders

 h/t B at Middle Of The Right

We hereby award this day the FAFO Medal with gold star device, to one Douchebag Garcia, formerly of San Antonio, TX , car thief and felon in possession of a loaded weapon, shot by his theft victim while attempting to avoid apprehension for his crime, after the vehicle's owner tracked him down, finding Douchebag sitting in the stolen vehicle in question, and ordered him at gunpoint to get out of the vehicle and await the arrival of the local police.

Douchebag, desiring no such annoying outcome to his criminal enterprise, then produced a weapon of his own and shot the vehicle owner, wounding him for his efforts, whereupon Douchebag became a bullet sponge for the owner's far more accurate and voluminous return fire, absorbing thereby an unknown quantity of lead proceeding towards him at a high rate of speed, and with an unknown number of friends of the lethal projectile(s) arriving concurrently, as well as getting his girlfriend-accomplice shot critically in the exchange for bonus points, while managing to rapidly achieve room temperature himself shortly thereafter. Huzzah.

For getting shot, Douchebag Garcia rates the FAFO Medal, and by happily dying of wounds received in the exchange, the gold star device is additionally authorized.

His butthurt brother, Jose Garcia, unfamiliar with the rules of FAFO, is rectum-clenchingly upset that Douchebag's grand theft auto and attempted murder became a capital crime, but the San Antonio TX police chief, where the shooting occurred, has already declared Zero Fucks will be Given on behalf of Douchebag, who was killed both lawfully, and in a praiseworthy manner, saving the citizens of the state of Texas any further expense for such now-superfluous niceties as incarceration, trial, and imprisonment for this or any other future depredations on the citizenry thereof.

And to the vehicle's owner, wounded in the apprehension, we officially commend him for his actions, wishing him a rapid recovery, and godspeed in his future life. The local authorities should formally commend him for his actions, and reimburse him at least a celebratory box of replacement ammunition for his efforts. Dulce et decorum est.

"Nice shootin', Tex!"

If there were more crimes like this, there'd be less crimes like this.

Well, Okay.

Yakkity Yak

h/t Divemedic

Divemedic responds to the yappy pups who keep throwing out the "You first!" response to those of us who blog and talk about shoulds and oughts.

TL;DR: He's right, and they're wrong.

My detailed thoughts:

It's quite possible to both blog, and make concrete preparations. Most smart folks are doing at least the latter, which is better than nothing.

The problem is the shortage of thinkers and organizers (or people smart enough to listen instead of spew bile) who can't look past Step Two, and the yakkers and flakkers who think this is a one-step process consisting of either/or, who are probably doing neither to any notable degree, let alone working on any higher levels of The Pyramid.

You could look it up:

This embiggens.

[Word To Your Mother: It's a 22-step process, and you're not even functioning at Step 3 yet.]

Franklin and Adams spent the entire Revolutionary War wining and dining in France (Step 9 if you're keeping score at home), and all that talking and diplomacy got us was money, arms & munitions, and military support sufficient to gain our actual freedom. So imagine how stupid you sound when you denigrate people making your case in public to anyone listening.

When you notice someone brighter than you talking intelligently about "stacking up" some international support, pay attention. They're playing chess, and you're playing checkers.

Just don't hold your breath waiting for them, or any actual backing, to show up.

And for anybody dishing on those holding in-person training for those of you out there with exactly zero lifetime real-world military experience (that would be 97+% of everyone, according to Census data since 1975), unless you've got your own well-regulated platoon - that's 30+ pipe-hitters for Common Core grads - of Immortals trained, supplied, organized, ready, and standing by for pear-shaped society, you probably ought to re-think your own cleverness. They aren't getting rich doing it, and they're trying to do a favor for literal hordes of mostly ungrateful numbnuts, who don't know what they don't know. Tribes and greater are the only thing that's worked since before recorded history. Solo actors and family-sized units are a death sentence, since about 50,000 B.C. or so. But keep thinking you'll be the exception. Maybe God holds you in special esteem.

Most of the loudest whiners (who, so far, are not deliberate fed-poasting agents provocateur) are going to blow their load, fail, get pissed, and run to emulate Benedict Arnold when no one else wants to do things their way.

History doesn't repeat, but it rhymes.

For those who have ears to hear.

Screaming Memeies

h/t OddJob

I nearly sharted myself. Like the model above did.

¡Viva!

Callou! Callay!

Sunday Music: Blowing Up Liberal Heads, Both Barrels Edition

 Twofer:

Try That In A Small Town:

I'm Just Sayin':

Anybody bitch-slapping the Leftards, and getting rich doing it, deserves a hearty "Hell, yeah!" Libtards hate this, because anytime they're getting stuck by any genre of music, it underlines that their whacktard kneejerk orthodoxy has become The Man.

UPDATE: Aldean's response to Cancel Culture yesterday, live in concert:

Point/Counterpoint

h/t WRSA

Right back at ya. That sword cuts both ways.

Meanwhile:

Believe your enemies when they tell you who they are, 

and what they want. 

No Knock PSA

At least make the bastards work for it.

Institutional Memory Is A Myth

h/t MDSA 

Voting PSA

 h/t Mike

Happy Peak Of Western Civilization Day

Equaled, afterwards. Never surpassed.

Not So Much A Mission From God, But...

For pure consumerism, and curing some cabin fever. Back late in the week. Probably.

Go visit the blogs listed over yonder--->.
 

Sunday Music: Robert DeNiro's Waiting

Another flashback track from happier times, when Reagan had just been re-elected by a landslide, before the titular subject was a festering left-wing luna-twat with Tourette's, and movies provided actual entertainment and a pleasant escape from everyday life, for the princely sum of two bucks on student discount night, in a tune sung by an 80's girl group you could listen to - or look at - all day long. A Number 3 in the UK, but peaked at 95 in the U.S.

Half The Country

h/t Irish 

Half the country:

Half the country does this. The other half thinks this.

It's not a recipe for a peaceful and harmonious outcome. Thank a merciful deity.

En Passant

Merci beaucoup.

Just now.

Lately, I post these notices mainly to piss off the ten people who still think the blog is struggling since the revocation of their superfluous blessings.

As if.

But their impotent rage tickles my funnybone to no end.

To the rest of you, sincere and continued thanks for dropping by.

WGAF?

When I still worked in the biz, I lost an entire series' employment to the last writer's strike. Six month's slam-dunk income. And 95% of SAG-AFTRA aren't actors, and haven't been for years, they're washing cars and waiting tables, and never even work enough to make their medical benefit requirement in any year. Yet are still allowed to vote on whether all 160K members will strike. (And most actors good enough to become "producers", thus the ones having exactly the most to lose by going on strike, aren't allowed to vote on that. Spasibo, comrades.) But those unemployed assholes are also fucking with the livelihoods of 200,000-400,000 working class people behind the camera with few other options (not a lot of work for grips, for example, outside the biz, except at moving companies, but without them on set, the movie doesn't happen), because the precious above-the-line primadonnas "don't make enough" when they do work. How oppressive. And they're doing it just as TV shows go back into production, and this summer's movies would be getting made, for release next summer. So they're screwing the entire town, and the entire industry, at the height of the working year for Hollywood. Fuck them all sideways, with a rusty chainsaw. Brighter lights might have noticed that the 299M people in this country outside their bubble don't give a wet fart for them, and they'd take a good deal, and continue working. But that would be easy.

First they're going to spend all this season home choking their chickens, and then they're going to wake up one day and realize they strangled the goose that lays the golden eggs.

Couldn't happen to a nicer bunch of high-functioning autistic retards.

We'd Like To Speak To You About Your Car's Extended Warranty

Sleep Tight, America...

Nothing To See Here™