Thursday, May 11, 2017

I Don't Feel As If I've Been Fully Understood

So, much like every SuperBatSpiderman movie, it's time to try a reboot. Let's hope we get paleoRaimi, as opposed to "I Kill What I Touch" Snyder.

There will be a few changes in layout, linkage, and such, but content should only change insofar as there will be more of it, in shorter chunks. Make excuse navelgaze shout subtle plea for ego-massage manly tears.


Ok, so.

JScar, the Morning Joke, betrothen to his next victim bride, a man who can be found by following the trail of the dead, is artfully walking a slackline of support/excoriation of an oddly-hued bugfucker named Donald. 'Oh, please, Mr. Asslips, do a better, subtler job of screwing people! Oh please, Randroid church humpers, gag Mr. Asslips so that you may resume subtly screwing people!" he exclaims on a daily basis.
“The president of the United States just admitted, on national television, that he called the director of the FBI to get an update on the status of a possible criminal investigation against him,” Scarborough said.
I skrev:
Dear Intern Killer, 
First, congratulations on your engagement. Do you have the funeral planned yet? 
Second, I read this statement out loud to Siri, that sexxxy minx. She said,"No, the Intern Killer still owns him. He shares a huge amount of blame for the end of normal. Tell him congratulations on his engagement. Does he have the funeral planned yet?" 
Hold the toaster over your head as you get into the bathtub, and please be careful, if you slip you may throw the toaster clear of the water. 
Love, paleo
I wonder if honesty should be the best policy, instead of courtesy...


Saturday, January 21, 2017

The Women's March on Washington and Sister Marches: THANK YOU!

I've had strep all week and so am unable to be at the St. Paul Sister March. I am not happy about this. But, I am watching on CSPAN, and it is cool. A wonderful turnout, and following Twatter, there are huge demonstrations for every Sister.

Ashley Judd just preached, an amazing speech, a nasty speech - what we lost when she halted her race against Mitch 'The Human Foreskin' McConnell. Force of nature.


Michael Moore leaned a bit heavy on Bernie Bronishness, but he was not totally wrong - we liberals need to get involved, need to get busy, need to push and reform the Democratic Party. Full disclosure, I caucused for Sen. Sanders, but enthusiastically supported Sec'y Clinton in the general. However, she is done, and it is time for new, and ideally more vicious blood.

The Orange Moron is attending his 'prayer service', broadcast on MSNBC. We can't see the earbuds playing the soundtrack from 'My SEXXXY Daughter'.  Fuck MSNBC. I need a news network with fewer Tweetys and Intern Killers. Take Joy, Lawrence, Rachel, Hayes, and a couple others and get them their own network.

I was raised Catlick, and turned on Mother Church fairly savagely as a result. But the one positive memory of uniformed schooling was the nuns. I don't knock nuns, at all - they were generally pretty chill and lived their faith, not doctrine, but actual faith, with a call to service for people. The last speaker was Sister Simone Campbell of Nuns on the Bus, and she was brief and to the point and needs actual Sainthood.

Cecile Richards is now raising the roof. Go get 'em!

Senators Gillebrand, Harris (NEW!) and Duckworth (NEW! ALSO BIONIC!), just barnburners!

Got to Patton Oswalt's feed @PattonOswalt - much fun is being had at the expense of the punched Nazi. I don't advocate physical violence in 99.999% of anything. But NaziPunching? This should become a trend!

Also, go to Are You Sorry Yet, a tumblr, shockingly tentacle porn-free, of Trumpanzees realizing they've been conned. Good humor!




Sunday, January 15, 2017

Drumpf Solves World Peace, Brangelina; Batboy Bobbled Brady's Balls

Breakfast time, Sunday morning. 

On weekends, I get to make fancier brunches than my weekday protein and frothy fruity shakes. Imma want cauliflower with onion fried in chile/lime olive oil (a homemade infusion, I'm trying to get a bit crunchier) with apple-chicken sausage and scrambled eggs. Checking the refrigertator, except the oil I got about none of that. 

Off to Cub, doop-doop-de-doop, shoppity-shop, I feel my plaid pajama bottoms are not congruous with the families coming home from church, bobbidybap, at checkout, 

HOLY BALLS!

Iwon'tthrowupIwon'tthrowup

























A lot of people see this rag since it is featured prominently, top shelf, front of the checkout, in every grocer in the country. The publisher, some cat name of David Pecker, famously friendly to the Illegitimate President-Elect of the US, Comrade Gropenfuhrer. 

Over the years, the Enquirer has gotten a few very high-profile things right. Enough that it is not immediately discounted even by people who should know better. Hell, I've said, when they reported something I find favorable, "Well, hey, they were right on John Edwards, they were right on Limbaugh being a junkie, they were right on the Cosby kid."

This attitude ignores much.

It ignores that although they were right in some cases, each of those instances started out as hatchet jobs. The Enquirer somehow stumbled erection first through a minefield of mousetraps and found a patty-melt with tots. Yay them.

It ignores that in these FEW instances where the Enquirer was actually right, they were memorable because the Enquirer is so often;  

  • incredibly wrong
  • doing meaningless fluff
  • 4 words: Make Money At Home

You don't remember the headlines about Princess Diana's long-lost evil twin, Jehosaphialy Duggar, being the secret brains behind the burgeoning Hollywood conservative movement of Vince Vaughn, Gary Sinese, Mel Gibson, and Meatloaf, because they weren't quite as correct.

Here, though, positioned prominently as you stand in line with your loaves and fishes, is one of the few pictures of the Shitgibbon where he does not look like a big toe with some form of Orange Foot Rot. Giving him an early promotion to POTUS, the walking Cheetoh is seen promising war on, and death to, the Yellow Peril and 'the evil a-rabs'*, as his frothing cult exults in madness. Finding the real hackers? His inbred mouth-breathing acolytes couldn't define hacking, much less piece together the breadcrumbs leading to the GRU/FSB actors behind it. They just think "Well, Abby and McGee can type with four hands on the keyboard faster than the hacker, so we win!" 

All I'm saying is that, suppose we get the major hard news outlets to remember to afflict the comfortable, and comfort the afflicted?

In print circulation, the Enquirer is quite competitive with all of the legacy organs, WaPo, NYTimes, Dallas Morning News. We still have a long way to go.

*No, the irony of 'the evil a-rabs' when the Persians would in fact be the original Aryans, so celebrated by these Nazi scumbags, does not escape me.
______________________________________________

Now, for the greater question.

IS BATBOY IMPLICATED IN 'DEFLATEGATE'?










Yes. Quo Vadis, bitches.

Wednesday, January 11, 2017

My Urinalysis Of The Orange STD's Latest Kerfuffle

Okay, so President-Elect Kompromat just got involved in Golden Shower-gate. Everyone is having either a great deal of fun or a great deal of 'Ewwww' over Drumpf's gold medal in Watersports.

I have a different tack, certainly probably not original to me, but I think I'm right.

Most are focusing on the sexual preversion angle. I don't see it that way. As I read it,
The FSB, it said, “employed a number of prostitutes to perform a golden showers (urination) show in front of him.” Not only that, according to the report’s anonymous Russian sources, Trump deliberately chose for his escapade “the Ritz Carlton hotel, where he knew President and Mrs. Obama (whom he hated) had stayed on one of their official trips to Russia and defiling the bed where they had slept.”
There is a sexual subculture into urination, the terms 'watersports' and 'Golden Showers' have been around much longer than CNN or Buzzfeed. Okay, fine, whatever floats your little man in the boat, not my gig but doesn't confront me. And The Tangelo Terror is certainly a bad damn guy, alleged rapist, admitted to sexual assault. Without a doubt, he got some tittilation out of degrading eastern European women. I suddenly feel a bit bad for Malaria, her life must be absolute hell.

But that last clause:
Trump deliberately chose for his escapade “the Ritz Carlton hotel, where he knew President and Mrs. Obama (whom he hated) had stayed on one of their official trips to Russia and defiling the bed where they had slept.”

Sexual gratification was not at all his goal. This was an act of revenge, of violence, of hatred, of disrespect. It's
"I'll piss on your grave"
writ large.

This is far worse than "ohhhh, hee hee hee, Imma dirty boy, hugely bigly!" 

This is the act of a sociopath, an undisciplined spoiled child. 

As a secondary point, he is SO easily manipulated, manipulable. And his legion of doof eats all this up. We are about to be 'led' by Damien.

Yay us. 

I Don't Even Want To Buy Charlotte Church Albums, Dammit!

Charlotte Church spit on the Shitgibbon's transition team, who approached her to sing. She responded absolutely loverly, to wit,




Okay, so first, I have to learn to like Welsh opera. Lotta consonants, goddammit lotta consonants, something along the lines of 'La Tradyydfiatddyfyata'.

But, I must inform the writer of this link, Mr. Brad Reed, who scribed
Unlike most singers asked to perform at the inauguration, however, Church didn’t just politely turn down Trump’s request in private.
Hey, ummm, boss? For the record, she was being polite. 

The Welsh would bow only to the Scots in the creative usage of language to call you a schmuck. And then only after a long brawl.

Tuesday, January 3, 2017

The Orange Twerp Applies Miniature Hands To Twitter and Hoodwinks His Sycophants

The House of Representatives, at the behest on Rep. Bob Goodlatte, fresh off of inbreeding, attempted to gut an independent ethics panel. After we, The People, got involved, they held off until it could be a less visible pile of bullshit.

The Orange STD, in his chosen method of 140-character communication, called it only "not a priority". In other words, let it be a less visible pile of bullshit. (Warning - CNN, the CNN of network news, has a goddammit autoplay.)

There are those who call it Teh Shitgibbon being vaguely presidential.

DO NOT GIVE THIS SALTED PILE OF FLAMING ASSHOLES AN EVEN BREAK.

He twattered well after the deal was going down in flames. Up to that time, his people:

Screw him with his tiny, tiny gloves on. Not my president. #MinorityPresident. Lost by 2.9 million votes. Suck a tailpipe, twerp.

Monday, January 2, 2017

This Is Malfeasance? Seriously? Hush, Stupid Person.

On New Years Eve, as the Sweetie and I watched Holidays*, CNN did some sort of broadcast that unfortunately did not involve

  • sacrificing Seacrest to a shambling mound, 
  • mincing him in a Magic Bullet one small part at a time










  • anything else fun.
However, it would seem that we missed one Mr. Don Lemon, hack extraordinaire, getting his Cuervo on. And getting his ear pierced. At the behest of one Ms. Kathy Griffin, who at a minimum should be on Mt. Rushmore. He did retain some control, as apparently he mostly remained standing, and only pierced his ear, as opposed to Dremel-ing a superfluous hole in his schwanzstuckë and calling himself Prince Albert Lemon.

As 2017 casts its fate to the loonicidal bedwetting inbreds, or as I like to call them, teh Orange Shitgibbon's base, the fecal circus started with a beaut: One Soledad O'Brien decided that this little vignette was "a very low bar for credibility."

Errr. Ummm, Sole, please to be looking at links following this request:

But a guy getting groovy, and snarky, looking for a nice guy to mack on, on TV, with Kathy Griffin, is a journalistic lowpoint?

Go 'way, now, ma'am.

*I would advise you watch as well, with a lack of chemical goodness in your bloodstream because Holy Gigafuck Jesus Bunny!

I'm Now Motivated

You may be able to tell by the rate of typing letters and suchlike that I am once again on an actual computerish widget. I have fought through the Swap of Symantec. With a single arm. Tied behind my back. And an extremely patient wife. I have located, created, forgotten, recreated 30 seconds before remembering, enough passwords to make this thing show me naked pictures of Bigfoot.

 I can once again pump out nonsense at nearly a lot more speed. So...

Dear World,

Game on.

Love,

paleo