Monday, August 15, 2016

And The Goddammit Beat Goes On.

Our house is a one-man crime wave. Oh, and fuck metaphors.

We had a break-in a week ago. Late Sunday night. We were out like the proverbial LED fixture, maybe 1:30am. Jaxson started barking. This is not unusual, he’d been squabbling with the cats earlier, but he’d gone upstairs, Sweetie and I were vaguely conscious now, so she went up to let him out or yell at the cats or let the cats out and yell at him or it was 1:30am, who the hell knows.

Sweetie got to the top of the steps and noticed the door from the house to the garage was open. Her first concern was the cats getting out so she checked the main garage door, it was closed, phew, she could get some treats to get the cats back in.

Then she noticed one cat was still in the kitchen and the passage door from the garage was propped open with a gallon jug of distilled water. Very uncatlike behavior. Her brain was defuzzing now, and she checked the other house doors, a light was on in the living room but the door was closed – the back door of the house, out to the yard, was wide open, yard lights were on. She came down and got me, said “I think someone’s been in the house”, suddenly now I’m quite wide awake, I grabbed a bat*, we went upstairs, Jaxson staying with us, house is devoid of bastard, into the living room, both laptops were gone, she’s already calling the cops. I, in retrospect stupidly, alone, went out to check the vehicles. Both were fine but my truck was unlocked, I suck at life, by the way, fuck me, the garage door opener was gone, along with an old iPhone I was using basically as an iPod. My wallet had been gone through but only about $15 in cash taken, the wallet was left with all cards and ID, another $20 taken off the counter. Jaxson is a goddamn hero. He has been treated and treat-ed really damn well for a week. It was pretty clear Jaxson had chased he/she/them off and they just grabbed the most obvious shit. Why didn’t Jaxson react immediately? He/she/they did have a couple minutes, to open a second door, turn on some lights. Our guess is that because we have a rather jangled family lifestyle, someone coming in at 1:30am is not always particularly unusual, at least, it used to be not particularly unusual, and he wouldn’t go nuts immediately, but he undoubtedly dragged hisself up and went upstairs expecting skritches and found it was not someone we knew. Jaxson is a goddamn hero, is what I’m saying. He was up there with Sweetie while I was still trying to figure out what socks are. Goddammit.

So the police came, I used my phone to change every password for every site I used for my laptop, I didn’t do any business on it thank FSM because I don’t trust electronic business practices, and hers was password protected, so I’m not extraordinarily worried, just ordinarily worried, about ID theft. So very angry at myself.

Many steps are being taken, we are getting a monitored system and I’ve done some security upgrades and doing more, but mostly we have to use caution. How do we do that without feeling like prisoners within our own homes? Don’t know. I have had a week of poor sleep, paranoia, savage revenge and booby-trap fantasies in my brain, and I don’t like it, really don’t like brain right now. It could have been infinitely worse, I’m under no illusions, there is some #privilege speaking, I know, we have good lives. By the way, you can’t buy razor wire commercially. Life continues, we’re relaxing some. Watched a movie called ‘Ogre’, so our sense of humor is returning. She’s been through this before, many years ago, I have not, she’s hardly overjoyed but I’m taking it worse and angrier, she’s just pushing the solutions. I married well out of my league.


*I work with any number of gun-nuts, and haven’t told them about this, because I don’t want the conversation with them that I had with a friend who CC’s, but he’s not a sociopath. I don’t have a handgun. Still ain’t gonna get a handgun. Hate the filthy things, don’t want them in the house. The furthest I’ve even thought in that direction is getting a beanbag barrel for the shotgun, still not entirely out of the question, but she really doesn’t like the thought. A big part of the reason I don’t want a goddamn gun in the house is exactly the situation we had that night. Sleep-fuzz plus confusion plus sudden adrenaline burst plus artificial penis equals fucking disaster. And suppose the other party had a gun as well? With them wide awake, alert, and having the, to use a stupid term, ‘drop’ on me? To my friend, I started to say “When you have a gun, you have to be prepared to-“ and my friend finished “-use it.” “No”, I said, “to kill.” I’m not prepared to kill over a couple old computers, and if he/she/they had hurt my wife or pets, I don’t care what they are armed with, with my last breath I would have shown them their own throat. This criminal was just looking to grab and go, it seems there is a (professional?) ring of these bitches hitting the TCs right now, people in the house, people not in the house, always looking to go in through the garage, and there are detectives working on it, we’ve found out, so they’re taking it quite seriously, our stuff is long gone but everyone is safe. A gun would only have escalated the situation to very conceivably deadly proportions. Fuck that and fuck gun-nuts and fuck guns.

Friday, July 29, 2016

Seventy-Five Thousand Hits! And Some Actual Stuff...

Several dozen of which are not from pornbots! Yay ME!

Okay, so I'm a happy democrat. I believe we are better than the cons, and I want us to be better. I was a Senator Sanders supporter, we lost the primary, but won the platform. So I'm With Her. I reject the social view of the cons, that people are evil and require a Bearded Sky-Daddy or a three-year-under-the-car-seat Cheetoh to keep us, well, a certain some of us, in line, and believe that working together, truly together, we can be better still. (Naive, huh. YMMV, I sleep well, fuck you.) I believe in redemption, not in the religious sense (while my own beliefs are plentiful, if perhaps a tetch out of the mainstream, I do not believe in Religion™), but in the sense that you can rejoin the Human Race.

Why the prelude? I have a couple notes on redemption.

Yesterday I listened to an interview yesterday with a gentleman named Michael Brodkorb, who used to be a highly mucked mucky-muck in the Minnesota Republican structure.  He was a bad man. No worse than most Republicans, so verrrrry bad. The MN Pub Party at the time of his deputy chairmanship was responsible for a lot of evil. Then he was brought down brutally. (The above link addresses the general outline). Hey, won't lie, I was happy. Ecstatic, even. Then he nearly waxed hisself in a car accident. Hey, I won't lie, I'M NOT A REPUBLICAN. I DO NOT CELEBRATE DEATH. Well, he started, while stating that he remained a Republican, and not really apologizing for his past as an arsonist, a bit of a public, penance?, um, re-branding perhaps? (to be cynical, which I'm trying to stop doing), less obviously partisan, more analytical of communications strategies. And he found a case, a case of parental interference with custody, which was no more and no less than kidnapping and giving children to slavers, the Sandra Grazzini-Rucki case. His work (best source is Missing In Minnesota, his blog aggregating his reporting on this case) helped blow it open, and she was just convicted.

He hasn't spoken of his political affiliation recently that I could find, and if he remains Republican, I am certainly more likely to disagree with him than agree, but he seems to have achieved some legitimate level of purpose, seems to be sane, and to be clear, is 11,468% on the good side here.

This is a path to real redemption.


There have been a couple stories in the last couple of DNC convention days about national Republicans at least applauding, never agreeing with but being satisfied with, the Democratic National Convention. Other stories this morning have cons slapping down the Coultergeist for her tweet about the family of Capt. Humayan Khan, a soldier who saved his unit at the cost of his life, speaking at the DNC. She sweetly pointed out that OH MY GOD AN ACCENT.

Erick SonofErick'sonsonrick, author if the philosophical treatise 'David Souter is a goat-fucking child molester' was outraged, OUTRAGED, by teh Human Chew Toy insulting Muslims. Amanda Carpenter, accused by Donald Trump of boinking overripe canteloupe Ayatollah Cruz, says 'gee, the DNC has found religion'.


ALL THESE PEOPLE LOVE EVERYTHING TRUMP SAYS. They wish they had the balls or vag to say it out loud theyselves (well, I guess Erickson usually does, but eyewash). You too, Zombie-Eyed Granny Starver Paul Ryan. Carpenter worked for Sen. James Inhofe, climate change denier extraordinaire. John Podhoretz, (son of Norman Podhoretz, an early neo-con who never met a Palestinian genocide that he disliked or an african-american he liked), an EARLY SCOTT WALKER fan who also called Marco Useless Rubio "Perhaps the best extemporaneous political speaker of our time", thereby showing off his political instanks.

At best, these filthy monsters have a basic, gutter understanding of the political winds and want to preserve their 'reputations'. On the continuum, several of those quoted had other horses in the race than Trump and are hoping for their instanks to be hailed as the best extemporaneous political instanks of our time. At the other end of the spectrum, at the worst, they are trying to drive wedges into the Democratic support, "Oh, look, Killary is a Republican, all you filthy hippies are having your rights tarnished, Bernie could have beat Trump with ??? and progress". Ratfucking 101. (And it will work on Susan Sarandon.)

This is NOT redemption, or suddenly being fair, or being tempered with age. I'd never expect them to go full liberal, but one can become sane. These people do not disagree ONE WORD with the Flatulent Baboon, or Coultergeist.

They may understand optics well enough to realize his convention was a shitstorm of extraordinary magnitude, but they don't disagree with a Single. Fucking. Word.

Thursday, July 28, 2016

News Thingies

Dateline: Philadelphia
July 26, 2016

Melania Trump To Speak Later This Week: "I Have Some New Thoughts"

Dateline: Moscow
July 27, 2016

Putin In Hospital With Orange Hand: Says Spox, "He Had It Stuck In Something"

Dateline: Indianapolis
July 27, 2016

Pence: "My God, My God, Why Hast Thou Forsaken ME"

Dateline: Pensacola, FL
July 28, 2016

Stolichnaya Truck Stolen

Tragic Baboon Deaths At Pensacola Zoo: Keeper "I've Never Seen This Sort Of Savagery", "Didn't Know You Could Do That With A Salad Tongs"

Fmr Gov Jeb Bush In Hospital, "Exhaustion": Says Dr. Rudolph Hilter, Family Physician

Sunday, July 17, 2016



The new Ghostbusters is out. For months, many so-called 'men' have been complaining about wrecked childhoods because cooterdust. Or whatever. Most of these so-called men lack personal experience with, ummm, well, really, women in general, much less mouth-to-ladybits communication. Also these so-called men are dipshits who should be encouraged to explore the effects of diesel tailpipes upon scuba mouthpieces. The original was quite funny, I had the T-shirt myself. But, it was not Young Frankenstein. Quit witcher dog-whistles, we know what you are saying, own it you punkass bitches.

While I was not enthused by the first trailer, the pieces that have leaked out have been better. I had been likely to see it. I don't know the actresses save Melissa McCarthy, and I'm not particularly a fan, she's ok, wevs. I enjoy light science fiction/comedy in general, including one of my all-time favorite films:

  • I. Loved. The Last Starfighter. I will go full DeathBlossom on anyone who disagrees, because they are failed at evolution. Always trust Centauri. 

Meteorologically speaking, Twister sucks on ice, but I'll watch it anytime I see it's on. Hell, I even rather enjoyed Evolution; bugger off.

Reviews so far have been basically, "If you're not expecting Citizen Kane, or even Candy Cane's First Lesbian Macramé Adventure, you'll have some fun. Don't overthink it, just enjoy it." So fine.

"But paleo, after saying it looks okay, you are saying that you had been likely to see it. Now you're not. Typical libtard cuck commie islamist elitist zionist fascist, uhhh, beta, respective vaginas, hah gotcha, Trump!" Well, oh Dweller In The Basement, the movie still looks fine. It's going to make the Netflix list, but:

Whilst waiting for Sweetie to get ready to go to the Co-op, I am watching The Mummy (w/ Brendan Frasier - again, as long as ya don't think too hard, enjoyable as all get out), and commercial breakage comes up. Oh, my, errr, it's ahhh, Ghostbusters tie-in, pizza, ohfuckfuckFUCK Papa John's, with the goddamn criminal filth Schnatter dressed in teh Beige Coveralls.

I realize, I do, that all marketing departments are useless gits, and given the job of promoting Citizen Kane, or Candy Cane Visits A KY Factory With Six Portable Generators And A Funk Band, would put out a line of action figures. And I'd buy the full Candy Cane Collection. The marketing team doesn't care about the movie, especially arthouse films like the Candy Cane series. The production team does not get too involved on the marketing end, other than direct promotion of the movie. Production holds no part in what I am about to say.

I cannot reward, in any way, any product, that would in any form, allow itself, either directly or indirectly, to be associated with a bloodthirsty monster like John Schnatter. If there is such a thing as universal justice, he would be in the first group up in the dock for crimes against humanity and the American worker. Fuck him, fuck his corporate board, fuck Peyton Manning. He needs to be in Supermax until he can be swept up and put in a dustbin.

And anyone who can stand his quasi-pizza needs a tastebud transplant. Jes' sayin'.

Monday, June 13, 2016

Posted With Several Damn Comments

I'm sick of it. So genuinely sick of it.

Innocents dead. Wasted. Perforated. Just out to have a good time, and because OMGWTFBBQBUTTSEX they had to die. People with families. Friends. Pets. Employers. Clubs. Dead. I have no connection except for being human, but I'm not sure I like that label too much anymore. Because humans suck. We suck. Virus with shoes indeed.

Churches celebrated yesterday. The death of gays, an awful lot of them Latino, at the hands of a brown guy, who could not be directly tied to Pat Robertson. They hallalujahed until they were hoarse.
The gun manufacturers ramped up the AR-15 lines again, they're going to sell a metric balls-ton of them in the next few days.
The republican candidate for president took credit for predicting this, then accused President Obama of, of course, another 'false-flag jihad taquito birthghazi.'

I wonder sometimes how these subhuman bastards sleep at night, and realize, with pain in my brain, that they sleep pretty well. There is death, beautiful, beautiful death, of people who ain't them. They sleep great. They have well oiled penis replacements tucked under their pillows or inside their shorts, and they sleep like babies.

(Disclaimer: Image is not mine, and I can't make out the artist. If anyone knows Imma happy to give him full credit, 7000pt. font and the contents of my wallet, 'cuz they's a whole buncha damn prophets. I apologize in advance about the contents of my wallet, mostly receipts, a few cigar wrappers, and a credit card of dubious provenance and dubiouser value.)

Sunday, May 8, 2016

In Which paleo Messes With Evil

Combination squirrel feeder/dog entertainment system.


Are We Pathetic Or Do We Just Need A Juicebox And A Nap

Fuck us. Genuinely.

Every country in the world, save us, should get together right now.

Have a nice spare rib dinner, with sauerkraut, sauteed cauliflower colliettes, and fresh salad, kale, radishes, scallions, and a basil-infused olive oil with strawberry-apple cider vinegar. Finish with a nice snifter of Amrut.

And then turn the surface of the United States to glass.

What may provoke paleo to continental annihilation this time?

  • Could it be Small Hands*? 
  • Berniebaggers? 
  • Sarah Palin swearin' on her lief that she will defeet Paul Ryan you betcha**?
  • Yet another revelation that Joe Paterno knowingly enabled Jerry Sandusky to rape an unknown number of prepubescent boys at Penn State, but now taking the timeline back to 1976?!?!
No. Actually, this morning's desire is due to television.

Newton Minow was early in describing TV as a vast wasteland - were he alive today, he'd be really, really, spectacularly old. Oh, and speechless. Because really, really, holy fucking old. TV in the United States may not take the actual prize, but we do suck. Nineteen Fondlings and Counting***. Jimmy Fallon. Seven different cake shows - 216 wedding shows - coming soon: The Divorce Show with Kim Davis. The entire TruTV network. We're no shrinking violets when it comes to digital quaalude.

But Imma thunkin' this is a new level.

After seeing the commercial, oh yes I did have to look up this broadcast venereal disease.
In “Arranged,” three couples from different cultural backgrounds have one thing in common – the belief in arranged marriages. From a young Romani gypsy couple in New York City, to a southern couple from the Bible belt, to a couple raised by traditional Eastern Indian parents living in Los Angeles – these brides and grooms don’t just marry each other, their unions include their entire family. Viewers will see each couple’s relationship from the lead-up to their weddings, to the several months after the reality of married life sinks in. 
Even though the marriages stemmed from the heart of their culture, the marital stakes are heightened as the couples do not have the level of intimacy common in most modern marriages. For some, it will be tough to give up their independence and their new roles as husband and wife prove to be more than they bargained for. Pregnancy scares, money concerns and over-protective parents will add even more stress to an already overwhelming situation. Viewers will learn compelling relationship advice as they watch these unique journeys and find out if these couples hold the key to a long-lasting marriage by being arranged.
Their description.


to the several months after the reality of married life sinks in? 

the marital stakes are heightened as the couples do not have the level of intimacy common in most modern marriages?

Viewers will learn compelling relationship advice as they watch these unique journeys and find out if these couples hold the key to a long-lasting marriage by being arranged.?

In a number of my kultursturm posts, I'd now pivot, I'd say let's ignore the unbelievable underlying fundamentalist religion crap, the control issues, the wild goddam misogyny, and attack a a prime mover if one seemed detectable. Nope.

The fundamentalist religion crap, the control issues, and the wild goddamn misogyny ARE THE PRIME MOVERS. Jesus H Christ playing piano at the Bunny Ranch, this is GENUINELY SICK.

The couples pushed together, undoubtedly at the behest of religious leaders, by cultish parents, do not have the level of intimacy as a couple who went out, willingly, to White Fucking Castle, and Jellystone park, and then figured out they own bad selves how to proceed. I know, what a stupid fucking notion. Couples holding the key to a long-lasting yada yada in an event they had no play in?

Children, and particularly in our society, young women, are not a commodity, to be traded or used as bargaining chips for family mergers. These young people will, must, have to, at some point, unless the new married couple is locked in Daddy-In-Law's basement, grow up, and they are soon going to, have to, must, do some self-evaluation.

And guess what. There's a serious chance they are going to be distinctly pissed off.
There is an equal chance they are going to be seriously broken.
There is a better than equal chance they are going to be both.
If the marriage survives, and I actually kind of hope it does, I'm a romantic, I believe in love, my wife walks on the ground I worship, it will be by dint of massive amounts of work, or unfathomable delusion.

So, yeah, the makers of this show? Find a nice, quiet, island. Google maps, your friend. Pack up, move there. Take up cannibalism.

 Again, we've been here. Nineteen Assaults and Counting. The show, in and of itself, is NOT the reason the United States needs to be leveled and the earth salted.

The commercial was for ARRANGED: S2.

*also Clapton's worst album, it sounded as if he difficulty with the solos
** I mean, go for it, you meth-addled plastic-surgery-addicted sociopath with a bright future of decaying in a rocking chair while Gargle argues with you and needs to keep plunging the blood in the shower
***so, that was on for what, 3 years, times average 22? episodes, times 39.42 people in the house, ummm, carry the pi, HOLY GODDAMNIT THAT SHOW WAS ON FOR 24,007 HOURS. GAHHH.